


We Could Be So Good Together

by TheDarkSynfulLegend



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Action, Angst, Graphic Imagery, M/M, Romance, Slash, Slow Build, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-12
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 36
Words: 51,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarkSynfulLegend/pseuds/TheDarkSynfulLegend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel struggled but let Dean hold him there though there was a slim chance he could have broken his hold. Dean was approaching but it was the glint of predatory hunger that glittered in Dean's green eyes that made Castiel pause with what he was going to say. "Come on, Cas. We could be so good together." Castiel didn't respond. He could feel Dean's breath against his lips. They were so close. A hair's breadth apart, and Castiel's wits scattered to the four winds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Road So Far . . .

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Begins after the Season Nine Finale  
> Spoilers: Everything before Season Nine
> 
> ' _italics _' - mind speech  
>  _italics _\- thoughts____  
> . . . _italics _\- flashback__
> 
> This story was partially inspired by the following video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBgfC78msng  
> So much love to Sakuri69 for giving me permission to run with it.
> 
> Kudos and commentary are always welcome and appreciated. Writers crave feedback!

We Could Be So Good Together  
By The Dark Synful Legend

 

The Road So Far:

**North of Springfield, Missouri**

 

The swarm of demons converged on the two story farmhouse and Cain reappeared near the crackling fireplace. Dean snapped around to see him. The Father of Murder stared at a faded and yellowing photograph on the mantel. “What the hell, man? You in or out? I'm getting head spins.”

Cain’s boots echo against the wooden floor. His stride bringing him closer to Dean. “I can give you the mark, Dean, if it’s what you truly want.”

Dean stares at him, “What are you talking about?”

“The mark can be transferred to someone who's worthy.”

“You mean a killer like you.”

Cain dipped his head forwards, “Yes.”

Dean spared a quick glance at the door. Demons were pounding on it. The sound reverberating in the cabin. “Can I use it to kill that bitch?” Dean inquired.

“Yes. But you have to know with the mark comes a great burden. Some would call it a great cost.”

Dean shoves his shirt sleeve up, baring the unmarked flesh of his forearm, “Yeah, well spare me the warning label. You had me at 'kill the bitch'.”

“Good luck, Dean,” Cain said. He reached out and took Dean's hand in his own. “You're gonna need it.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot. Let's dance.” In an instant, Cain drops Dean's hand and grasps his forearm while Dean mirrors the movement. White hot pain lanced along Dean's arm. A line of red veins spreading from the mark on Cain's arm only to become an identical mark on Dean's. Dean grit his teeth with the pain, then in another moment it’s all over. The mark settled upon his flesh.

 

~*~

 

**The Humboldt Hotel**

 

Dean opened the door slowly, his face cold and lacking emotion as he entered the hotel room, his gaze wary, he saw Crowley sitting in a chair; his right hand clutching a bleeding wound, “Hello Dean, love the crazy blood lust in your eyes”, he remarked. Dean didn't answer, “I'll take you to Abaddon; it’s not far.” Crowley continued then cut his eyes, warning Dean.

The demon jumped out from behind the corner. Dean wasted no time stabbing him with the blade. The demon's eyes lit up a bright golden yellow as he died. Pushing him off the blade, the demon fell into a glass faced cabinet, which shattered upon impact. The body slumped to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Suddenly, Dean is blasted off his feet and pinned against a painting on the wall. The glass shattering while Abaddon came strutting out from behind a marble pillar. “A boy and his blade. And still no match for the new Queen”, she quipped, her red hair tumbling over her shoulders. She extends her arm. Perfectly manicured fingernails spreading wide and pushing Dean deeper into the painting behind him

Dean grimaces, keeping a tight grip on the hilt of the First Blade. “So,” she purred, “you'll die, painfully.” Dean starts struggling against the invisible force holding him there. “Then Crowley, will watch his son die.” Crowley at this point was watching Dean, but then flicked his gaze to her. “Ditto. And then...the King himself, and Blade destroyed. That's quite a to-do list”, she finished.

Dean slowly turned his head and stared at the blade in his hand. Then he realized what Cain had said; HE powered the Blade which was amplified by the mark. The mark flared red-hot on Dean's arm, glowing through layers of clothing. Abaddon raised her hand. Her lips curling into a snarl. Dean's eyes had taken on a hard determination. He grit his teeth and concentrated on what he had to do.

He slid down the wall. Booted feet crunching the shards of glass from the cabinet that had shattered when he threw the demon into it. The wind whipped up and Dean walked into it. Taking one step then another, Dean realized that the blade made him immune to her powers.

Practically growling, Dean advanced on her. Abaddon threw all her power into one more slam against him. Dean collided against the wall. The blade spiraling from his hand to land on the floor. As Abaddon began to twist her fingers. Dean grunted in pain, for it flared through his body like a wildfire. Abaddon started to smile thinking she finally had the upper hand. Failing to realize that Dean has his concentration on the blade. It begins to shake under the emerald stare. Dean willed the blade back to his hand; the mark flaring once more.

Sam threw the door open to the wind that had picked up. Abaddon fighting to keep Dean against the wall. But she was no match for him. He strode with a snarl on his lips and a fiery look in his eyes. Taking the four steps it took to bury the blade to the hilt in her stomach. Dean lifted her clear off the ground, so great was his fury. Abaddon screamed. Her cream colored skin burned from the inside out. Her eyes glowing while the Knight of Hell finally perished. The body slumped to the floor but that wasn't enough for Dean. Dropping to his knees. He straddled her body and with the blade still in his hand slammed it into her face. Once. Twice. Three times even as Sam called out to his brother, “Dean!” Dean's fist with the blade clutched came down repeatedly, turning her face to bloody hamburger meat, his face splattered in crimson, “Dean! Stop!” Sam shouted as he looked at his older brother. Concern shining in his eyes. Dean drops the blade, and looks over his brother.

 

~*~

 

**Lebanon, Kansas**

 

Sam is pacing a rut in the floor of the bunker's vast library with Castiel perched nearby on the arm of a chair watching. “I don't know, Cas. Something is wrong with him. It’s like the mark is changing him. He's been so...so...” Sam's voice trails off.

“Aggressive”, Castiel suggested.

Sam nodded. “And when he holds the blade, he can't seem to put a damper on that aggression. I don't know why. It's been worse since he took out Abaddon.”

Castiel looks up at Sam, his eyes betraying none of the fear which circles his grace like sharks scenting chum. “Sam, explain it to me.”

Sam tells Cas about when Dean holds the blade and how his entire body language changes. “He was like an animal, Cas. For an instant, I didn't even recognize him. Dean was this feral thing with a need, a desire…an addiction to kill.” Sam sighed. “He's always been my hero, Cas. But, it’s doing something to him, Cas and I don't know what it is. It scares me.”

Castiel would never admit it but it scared him too.

 

~*~

 

**A Warehouse**

 

Metatron thrust the angel blade home just under Dean's ribcage. It made a wet noise, sliding through muscle and sinew to the hilt. Twisting it viciously, Metatron pulled it out. Sam shouted as he found them. Dean turned his head and stared at his brother. With a particularly nasty smile on his lips, Metatron returned to Heaven. Sam ran to Dean's side and gathered his brother in his arms, pressing a bandanna against the wound.

“It’s better this way,” Dean said, choking on his own blood. “The mark is making me into something I don't want to be.”

Sam lifted his brother's arm and slung it over his shoulder, carrying him the best he could. They walked slowly, Sam's hand pressing over Dean's keeping pressure against the wound. “Wait, Sam, hold up.” Dean slumped against the concrete pillar. “I gotta say something.”

Sam looked at Dean, concern shining in his eyes, “What?”

Dean smiled ever so slightly; it was farewell. “I'm proud of us.” He smacked the side of Sam's face with his hand, his eyes fluttering closed. Sam caught Dean in his arms, speaking softly but Dean was already gone. Sam clutched Dean to his chest, head cradled over his heart. His own soul shattering, he started to cry.

 

~*~

 

**Lebanon, Kansas**

 

Crowley, the King of Hell was standing in the open doorway staring at Dean's body. After a few moments, he moved into the room and sat down in a chair, lounging, before he started to speak. “Your brother, bless his soul is summoning me as I speak. Make a deal, bring you back. It’s exactly what I was talking about isn't it? It’s all become so...” He paused searching for the word, “expected.” He leaned over, resting his forearms on his thighs, “You have to believe me. When I suggested you take on the Mark of Cain, I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth, but I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It’s fundamental.” Crowley resumed leaning back against the chair. “But there is one story about Cain I might have forgotten to tell you.” He took a breath. “Apparently, he too was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the Mark wanted him to be. So he took his own life with the blade. He died. Except as rumor has it, the Mark never quite let go.”

Reaching into his jacket, Crowley pulled out the First Blade; the jawbone of the animal almost glistening with unholy light. “You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts a flutter at mere speculation?” He rose from the chair staring down at the blade while crossing over to the bed. “It wasn't until you summoned me,” he paused. “No, it wasn't truly until you left that cheeseburger uneaten,” he continued, placing the handle in Dean's right hand and folded the fingers over it. “That I began to let myself believe maybe miracles do come true.” He kept speaking, as he placed the blade over Dean's chest. “Listen to me Dean Winchester, what you’re feeling right now, it’s not death; it’s life. A new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean, and see what I see; feel what I feel. Let’s go take a howl at that moon.”

Dean's eyes suddenly snapped open. The orbs were pure obsidian; the eyes of a demon.

~*~


	2. Now: Heaven

Now:

 

Heaven

 

A new day was dawning on Earth and so it was in Heaven. The main palace of the angels was carved into the very top of the mountain, bridges crossed rocky cliffs where water trickled down becoming the mist that the peak was always surrounded by. Temples were everywhere. Built with ornate columns, the homes of the angels that permanently resided there. Among the temples were plants and lush green grass fields. Moss grew on the sides of buildings. Flowers colored in bright splashes of purple, red and blue were scattered about. They bloomed eternally, both day and night. The scent of them filled the crisp morning air, each one of them covered in glistening drops of dew.

Metatron was being escorted by several armed angels. The prison cell was five feet long and eight feet wide in size. Smooth stone walls made of granite with one single door made of steel bars. Castiel watched as Metatron entered the cell and he closed the door behind the smaller angel who wrote down the Word of God. The guard that had escorted Metatron disappeared a few seconds later and Castiel turned and looked at him, “Where is it, Metatron?”

“Where is what, Castiel? You will have to be more specific with what you are asking me.” Metatron inquired, seating himself on the cot that was covered in a threadbare blanket.

“My grace, I know you couldn't have used it all for the spell that you cast to throw all the angels out of Heaven. Was there any left over?”

“That borrowed grace of yours, you can feel it burning away, trickling away like time.” Metatron spoke, “You can keep me here all you want, Castiel. Ask about your grace as much as you want. But there is something you'll never understand. You can get into my head, but you will never find it . . . if there is any left.” he finished with a smirk. He lay back on the cot, folding his hands on his chest and closing his eyes.

Castiel growled low, and left the detention area. He passed the large banquet hall where the voices of his brothers and sisters were raised in joy. They were no doubt eating manna, a rich bread that was flavored with honey. Drinking nectar out of carved wooden goblets. Lounging on decadently plump pillows which were artfully cast upon various chaises and stools. On one hand he was lured by the laughter in their voices, the urge to join them strong. But no. He did not belong there. He was an angel without a purpose. Without orders. Searching for a breath of life, a touch of heavenly light that flared within him. Placing his hands on the railing of one of the balconies, he stared at the last star in the distance. The breeze was cool against his forehead, but it brought him no comfort. As an immortal, a celestial being, the angel stood there only to let out the sigh that he didn't even realize he had been holding. Making a decision, he turned on his heel and headed inside.

Castiel was standing in the center of what used to be Metatron's office. His cobalt eyes took in everything. Each book title along the shelves to the maps spread out over one of the tables, down to the statues and other knickknacks, busts of scholars, writers, and there was even one of Metatron himself. Castiel was hurting, he wanted to go to Earth and see to Sam Winchester who was dealing with the fall out of Dean's death alone, but he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it there with what little of Theo's grace he had left.

Sinking into the leather chair, Castiel let the brown leather envelop him while he pondered his next move. He stared at the flames in the fireplace; the tongues of orange and red flickering. The occasional pop of the wood soothed Castiel's frayed nerves. The leftover grace which his body was burning through. Fading silently to nothing. Wiping his hands over his face, Castiel struggled for the first time in a long time to not start crying.

The door to Metatron's office opened and Hannah, one of the other angels, stepped inside. “Castiel, they said you were here. Is everything alright?” She asked. Dressed in a black pantsuit with a powder blue blouse, she sat in the other chair across from Castiel. “What is it?”

“I should not be here, Hannah. I should be there, on Earth, with the Winchesters”, Castiel replied as he rose from where he was sitting and picked up the bust of Metatron. _Vain bastard_. Castiel thought as he held it in his hand, studying it for a moment in time his fingertips moving along the carved lines.

“Why, Castiel? It is not where you belong.”

“And where do I belong, Hannah? Here? All I wanted was to get my people home. My brothers. My sisters. To atone for my mistake that I made when Metatron took my grace.” Castiel responded. “I want...” his voice trailed off.

Hannah rose gracefully and crossed the ornately woven rug, placing a slender hand on his shoulder, “Castiel, what do you want?”

Castiel shook his head, “I just want to be an angel again and if I can't be that; I'd want to remain the Winchester's guardian.”

She tightened her hold on his shoulder. “Without your grace, you will wither and die, Castiel.”

“I KNOW that!” Castiel snarled, throwing her hand off his shoulder. He threw the bust of Metatron towards the fireplace. It arced through the air before striking the edge of the mantel and shattered into a thousand pieces exactly as the angel tablet had when Castiel had destroyed it.

Among the shards however was a small vial. It held a cobalt blue and white light that writhed within its prison like it was alive. It glowed brightly such as a star in the night sky would, beckoning to Castiel who went to it instantly. It was as though he were a sheep moving to a shepherd’s crook. _You can get into my head . . . but you'll never find it_. That was what Metatron had meant. It had been in his head after all. Dropping to a crouch, his trench coat pooling around him like a cape; Castiel reached out and gingerly took it in his fingertips.

“Castiel, is that…?” Hannah inquired as she moved to stand behind him.

Castiel didn't respond but the vial clutched loosely in his hand pulsated in answer. “Yes.” The pull of his grace being so close was strong. It took everything Castiel had not to simply smash the small vial and take back what was his.

Hannah noticed his hesitation. “This is what you wanted, Castiel. Your grace returned to you. You could lead us.”

“I'm no leader, Hannah, I've always been a soldier.”

“A soldier who rebelled against Heaven. Who better to lead us than you?” Hannah countered, pushing a lock of her hair from her eyes.

Castiel rose to his feet, still holding the vial of his grace. “I do not want to lead, Hannah. I just want to be what I was. An angel and guardian to the Winchesters,” he paused for a moment, regaining his composure, “the last remaining Winchester.” He amended.

Hannah nodded then stepped back away from him. “You know, Castiel, you have done so much for Heaven. It is time you did what you wished. I believe you have _earned_ that much. But I would like you to come back once in a while.” While they had been talking, the last of the grace that Castiel had stolen was ebbed away like high tide. He crumpled to the rug emblazoned with a dragon, his entire body convulsing. Blue light began to pour from his eyes and mouth. Gasping like a fish flopping on a boat's deck for oxygen, Castiel gripped the vial tighter. “Castiel...” Hannah spoke, her voice no more than a whisper. “You have to break the vial.” There was no response as Castiel's tremors got worse. “CASTIEL!”

 

~*~


	3. Lebanon, Kansas

Lebanon, Kansas

 

Sam Winchester rose from where he had been attempting to summon the King of Hell, but Crowley didn't answer him. “It’s your fault! Where are you? You have to fix this”, Sam muttered. He headed to the living quarters within the bunker in order to prepare his brother's body for the traditional salt-and-burn that every Hunter was given after their death. The first time when Dean had died by Lilith's hell hounds, Sam hadn't wanted to bury Dean. He had sworn he was going to find a way to bring him back. This time it was different. Dean had specifically asked without words for Sam to let him go and as much as it broke Sam's heart, he was going to honor his brother's dying wish.

With a sigh, Sam looked around. The King of Hell didn't show up but there was always a crossroads demon. Though the last time he had dealt with them, it had not ended well. Sam ran a hand through his long brown hair pushing it out of his eyes as his mind went back to after Dean had gone to Hell, taken there by the hounds themselves at Lilith’s order.

. . . _Sam drove without a destination in mind, though the Impala's engine growled reaching a crossroads. Suddenly, Sam knew exactly what he needed to do. Climbing out of the car, he slammed the door and popped the trunk, withdrawing a few things that he would need. Placing a photo of himself, a small handful of dirt from a local graveyard, and the bone of a cat in the small box. Sam then dug a hole where he placed the box in the ground and covered it. The headlights of the Impala cut through the darkness, illuminating Sam who stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. “Come on...” Hearing something behind him, Sam whipped around, and took a step backwards. The demon was a stunningly beautiful woman. Long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, her skin illuminated by the headlights of the Impala was the color of cream. “You're a crossroads demon?” he asked, for she looked more like the girl next door that he would want to date._

_She rolled her eyes, “Obviously,” her drawl was full of sarcasm. “I came here when you buried the box, didn't I? What do you want, Winchester?” She asked, placing one hand on her denim clad hip and staring at him with eyes the color of blood._

_Sam swallowed, watching her stalk around him. Each calculated step reminded Sam of a predator, “My brother...”_

_Trailing her fingertips over his t-shirt clad back, she stood behind him. “We all know about Dean Winchester in the Pit.” she purred in his ear, her voice a husky whisper._

_“Take me.” Sam said, resisting the urge to shudder at her voice. “Me for Dean.”_

_The demon licked her lips leaving them to gleam wetly. “Tempting…” Sam reached to the small of his back where the Colt rested. “But no.” she spoke stepping away from him. “Oh and that gun you are poorly attempting to hide, if you were to kill me…no demon will come to your call again.”_

_“Why won’t you deal for me in my brother’s place?”_

_Rolling her eyes, she let out a sigh, “you humans, always so sacrificing.” She waved her hand and an office appeared behind her. She sashayed to a chair and sat, crossing her legs at the knee. Sam stumbled a bit and looked around in a panic. “Oh, I forgot how disorienting that is for your species.” she quipped, watching amused while Sam struggled not to turn green his stomach fighting to settle._

_Sam steadied himself and looked around warily. It looked like any other office he had ever been in. Books bound in what looked like leather lined shelves. Though there were several jars, all of which contained a glowing orb. Wisps and tendrils of light emanating from them. “So, if you won't deal for my brother, why am I here?”_

_She laughed, low pitched and sultry. “Perhaps I just wanted to chit chat. Your brother...Dean is right where we need him to be.” She said, tapping a perfectly manicured nail on the desktop. “I do have orders to follow myself, you know.”_

_“What's your name?”_

_“Why do you want to know?”_

_“Why can't you just answer the question...” Sam let his voice trail off._

_“Names have power, and I am not going to let you have that sort of power over me.” She responded, her eyes narrowing. “Do not call for me again, Winchester.” the demon hissed. She waved her hand and the images around him vanished, leaving him once more at the crossroads, alone._

_“Son of a bitch.” The Impala was idling nearby, and it was just as he left it. Pissed off now, Sam got behind the wheel and revved the engine until it roared like an angry tiger. Dirt made a dark cloud beneath the rear tires of the vehicle, until the brake lights appeared like demonic eyes peering out from the depths of Hell_ . . .

His footfalls echoed on the floors of the vast library within the bunker. He took a doorway that would lead to the underground living quarters. Most of the room doors were closed save for his own and the one that Dean currently rested within. When Sam hit the doorway of Dean's room where he knows he left his brother's body. Sam found the bed empty and no trace of Dean anywhere. Sam grasped the doorjamb; his breath increasing into a fast pant. Panic was setting in and he was on the verge of hyperventilating. “Dean,” he whispered, before turning on his booted heel and calling for his brother. “Dean?!” Sam ran through the bunker, shouting for his brother.

The sound of running water drew Sam towards the bunker's vast bathroom. Steam was rolling from the open doors, filling the hallway with a dense fog which obscured Sam's vision. “Dean?” Sam called out. The sound the of water shutting off and the rustling of a towel met Sam's ears. Then a voice that he thought he would never hear again called out.

“Yeah, Sammy?” Dean replied as he stepped out of the steam. It didn't matter to Sam that his brother was practically naked clad only in a threadbare towel. Sam strode the five feet that separated them in two seconds flat and pulled Dean to him in a bone-crushing hug. Sam didn't care if Dean called it a chick-flick moment; he needed this, to feel that his brother was alive. In one piece. Whole. Dean's arms came up and he hugged Sam back for a few moments, then spoke, “uh, Sammy, need to breathe at some point.”

Sam instantly let go, taking a step backwards. “Uh, sorry”, he replied as he got a good look at his older brother. There was something different about Dean but Sam couldn't put his finger on it. There was a tautness in the muscles. A tenseness that made Dean look like he was ready for a good fight and he'd be damned if anyone got in his way. “You're alive...I mean, you died!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “C'mon Sammy, I've been mostly dead all day.” There was a shrug of one tanned shoulder. “Like a bad penny, I keep turning up.”

Gripping his brother's shoulder as Dean tried to slip past him to his room; he spun him around. “This isn't something to joke about. How did it happen?” He asked, “Was it Cas?”

“Nope, haven't seen him.” Dean replied while he plucked Sam's hand off his shoulder. “I'm starving.”

Sam nodded. That made more sense. Dean was always hungry and it was a good sign that nothing was wrong. “Sure, I can go make something.”

“None of that rabbit food you're so fond of, bitch.” Dean groused, padding off on bare feet down the hallway towards his bedroom.

“Jerk!” Sam shouted after him; a grin on his lips as he almost bounced his way into the kitchen.

Dean retreated to his room where he got dropped the towel and dressed in dark clothes. Well, darker than usual. After that, Dean started putting his weaponry back on the walls, each one a badge of honor. The blade he fashioned while in Purgatory and the First Blade got spaces over the shelf at the head of the bed. When he was finished, Dean looked around and smiled. Yeah, it’s home, he thought to himself. Shoving his feet into his boots, Dean headed towards the kitchen to see what Sam had scrounged up. Dean passed the kitchen, pausing to grab a bottle of beer. They had spent several meals together here, just talking and laughing while they ate. Sam wasn’t in the kitchen but in the library already munching on a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The plate that he had left for Dean held two sandwiches each one with the crusts cut off. That touched Dean. The only way Sam had known that he liked them that way was the time they spent in Heaven together locked away in their happiest memories.

Sam looked up from where he had his mouth full. “Wasn’t sure how hungry you were but I bet you still wuv hugs.”

Dean plopped down unceremoniously in the chair and grasped the edge of the plate, bringing it closer to him. “Shut up, bitch.” He remarked and then took a huge bite from the sandwich. “Just like mom used to make. Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam nodded sadly before returning to his food. Like always, he had a large salad and a sandwich. “Dean, will you tell me about her? Just what you remember, from before I was born?”

Dean paused, taking a sip of his beer straight from the bottle. “About mom?” Sam’s chin dipped. “She was…fearless. I remember that. When Cas set me back in time and I saw her,” Dean sighed, “she was beautiful Sam, full of life, and love, and man, she nearly took me down.” Sam smiled warmly and listened to his brother go on about their mother. Dean finally wound down and sighed, “I miss her.”

“I didn't know her as well as you did, Dean, but I miss her too.”

Dean got up and scooped up his plate. “You and your damned rabbit food”, Dean snarked, looking at the remnants on the plate. Only a few pieces of lettuce which were swimming in some sort of oiled dressing. “You stayin up?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, for a little while. Had this tome I was reading.”

“Alright, Giles. Don't stay up too late.” Dean said even as Sam ducked his head away from the ruffle that Dean was attempting. With a snort, Dean picked up Sam's plates and headed off to the kitchen.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Sam got up and started searching the vast resources that the library of the Men-of-Letters had to offer. There were obscure passages, references to Lucifer which made Sam tremble as he remembered Lucifer in his mind, trying to take him over. The only one that Sam found was in a large dusty text, but before he decided to sit down and read it, he padded into the kitchen to make himself some tea.

Carrying the steaming mug of tea back into the library, Sam sat down and flipped the book open, sipping the hot liquid which Sam liberally laced with sugar. He ran the pad of his finger over the words he was reading. 'The Mark is a brand placed on the wearer by Lucifer himself. It is the source of the First Blade's power. The mark and the blade work together, and without it, the First Blade is rendered useless. The mark can be transferred to another if they are worthy.' Contemplating those words, Sam rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Closing the tome, Sam leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms across his broad chest. With a deep sigh, he rose and headed to his own bedroom down the hall from Dean's, he did notice that the door to Dean's room was firmly closed. Placing his hand on Dean's door he whispered, “I'm glad you're back Dean.” Then with a half-smile headed on his way to his room where he stripped out of his clothes and crawled into bed. With the light on, he never fully fell asleep. Instead he stayed awake, and pondered exactly how Dean had returned to Earth. Maybe God had resurrected Dean, but to Sam it didn't matter, as his brother was alive and well, and well, almost whole.

 

~*~


	4. Acadia National Park, Maine

Acadia National Park, Maine

 

She ran through the forest. Branches tearing at her clothes. She kept looking over her shoulder for an unseen predator. Stumbling, the girl fell, tearing the skin of her knee but she got up and stumbled on, looking for any kind of sanctuary. Ahead in the distance was a cabin with a single, solitary light shining in the window. Salvation! Was the single thought that ran through her mind. Turning towards that direction, she made her way up the three stairs and pounded on the door. “Help me,” she whispered.

The door opened and a young man stood there. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked. He was tall with dark hair and warm brown eyes. He was obviously dressed for bed, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a matching top though the sleeves were missing and it was open, showing off his skin and toned form. “Are you running from someone?” he asked, ushering her through the door, while looking beyond her for the predator she had been fleeing from but he saw nothing.

“I'm lost...night fell so quickly...and I got all turned around...” she panted, her eyes wide with fear.

The man ran a hand through his hair, “Uh, is there anyone I can call for you? Family? Boyfriend?” he asked, pulling a blanket off the couch and curled it around her to warm her up.

She shook her head, “No. No family. No...No boyfriend.” she said with a shy smile in his direction, “I'm Ravyn.”

“Christopher, my friends call me Chris.” He responded. Rising he got to his feet and headed to the small kitchen, “let me get you something warm to drink.”

“Th...Thank you.”

Chris threw her a grin over his shoulder as he made some chamomile tea for her, setting the kettle on the stove. He had gotten a good look at her. Long chestnut brown hair, with lighter streaks tumbled over her shoulders. A waterfall of silk, it framed her heart shaped face. She had wide gray eyes, and a mouth which seemed to be in a perpetual pout that Chris could already see himself kissing as he pushed her back into his bed. “Chamomile okay? It’s actually all I have.” he said with an embarrassed grin.

“Its fine, if you bring yourself a cup.” Ravyn spoke, slipping her feet out of the sneakers and tucking them under herself on the small beat up sofa that she had been sitting on.

Chris took out two mugs and filled them with tea, carrying them over and placing them on the table before her. “Shit, I'm sorry. Did you want cream? Sugar? I think I have some.” He made a move to get up again.

Ravyn knew she had to be quick and nodded, “Sugar would be nice,” she spoke. As Chris got up to get the sugar from the cabinet, she pulled a small packet out of her bra and tipped the contents into his mug. He returned with a small jar of sugar and handed her a spoon that had seen better days. Ravyn scooped out two heaping spoonfuls and put them in her mug, stirring liberally then taking a swallow of the warm liquid.

Chris sat next to her on the couch and put his arm around her, after a moment she rested her head on his shoulder, “You don't mind?” he inquired, looking down into her eyes. They were hypnotizing, and he found himself falling into them.

With a pout on her lips, she responded, “I have to thank my savior don't I?” Before he could respond, she straddled his hips with her slender legs. Reaching behind her, Ravyn picked up his mug and handed it to him. “How about this. You finish your tea, I'll finish my tea, and then you can have me.” she whispered huskily.

Chris downed his tea quickly, barely pausing to swallow the liquid. He placed the mug down on the small table next to the couch, and reached for her. “Yeah, I'm going to have you baby.” Ravyn's tongue slipped out and wet her lush lower lip before she leaned in and kissed him. Chris tightened his arms around her body, one hand thrusting into her hair to hold her still on his lap, even as she rocked her hips into his. He broke the kiss, attempting to catch his breath. He gazed at her taking in her features, “You are so....” he blinked, “what...” he looked at her, but she was beginning to blur.

“What's wrong baby? Can't see me anymore?” Ravyn said as she got off his lap and stood there in the center of the room, her bare toes wiggling against the carpet. “Don't worry, it will pass, mortal.” She quipped, while pulling a wicked looking blade from the small of her back, raising it to her lips, she licked the blade.

“What...what are you?” Chris inquired, watching while she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. His vision blurring badly, he swore he saw wings sprout from her back. “Are...are you an angel?”

She laughed, straddling his hips once more. She ripped his shirt off with one hand. “An angel? That's a first.” her voice was low pitched and husky, “far from it.”

Ravyn dug the tip of the knife into the skin of his chest making a small v shaped incision. Chris screamed in pain. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” she started, tilting her head to the side, “I'm hungry.” she finished. She ripped a strip of his skin off his body and lifted it to her lips. “Don't worry, you won't feel anything much longer.” Chris watched as she ate it, then rose and padded soundlessly towards the door, opening it wide. Ravyn then looked at him, her gray eyes glowing faintly before cupping her hands around her mouth and making a screeching call.

“What the hell?”

“Oh, you're too much for me to consume by myself, and my little sister needs to eat too.” Ravyn replied.

 

~*~

 

Thunder Hole, Maine

 

The small inlet, naturally carved out of the rocks on the cliff face where the waves roll into. At the end of the inlet, down low is a cavern where, when the rush of the wave arrives, air and water is forced out like a clap of distant thunder. On a good day, the spout of water reaches over forty feet high with a thunderous roar. Above it, is another cave, where a young girl appearing about seventeen years of age is crouched by a fire. She held her hands over the flames, warming herself as the cave was cold what with the spray of water that launched itself upwards every five minutes or so. Her light brown hair was pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, white strands fell in her face as she heard something.

Getting to her feet, the girl padded to the opening of the cavern and listened to the wind. Hearing the sound again, she knew. It was her sister. She was calling. A smile flit over her lips as she raised her head towards the light of the full moon. She could feel her wings sprouting from her back, feathers bursting forth, pain flaring from her shoulder blades that she ignored. With a mighty flap, she rose into the air with the thunder of the wave crashing into the inlet she flew off to find her sister.

 

~*~

 

A cabin in the woods

 

She landed but it was uneven as she stumbled slightly. “You need to work on that landing, Zirena.” Ravyn said as she looked at her little sister.

“Shut up.” Zirena folded her wings along her back, and spoke, “I'm hungry.”

Ravyn smiled and put her arm around her sister's shoulders, “come inside. I have dinner waiting for you.” Zirena entered the cabin and looked around. The living room had a fire crackling in the stone fireplace, a rough-hewn table was in the living room before a couch that had probably seen better days. Beyond that there were two doors, one probably led to the bathroom the other to the bedroom. But Zirena's amber colored eyes were focused on the body that was tied down to the table in the kitchen.

Ravyn had tied Chris down to the table, using strips of his long sleeved shirt. His chest was still bare though there were several strips already taken from it. “You started without me,” Zirena pouted.

“My apologies, little sister.” Ravyn then handed her the knife she had been holding, “Here, to make up for it, you can have the choice parts.” Taking the blade in her smaller hand, Zirena approached the man who was spread-eagle on the table, laid out like a Christmas goose. “What do you desire, sister?” Ravyn queried moving to stand behind her sister, “the liver?”

Zirena could feel her fangs lengthening in her mouth, as she stared at the body before her. “The heart, I want his heart.” came her soft whisper. “Can I?” at Ravyn's nod, Zirena's expression changed. She sliced into the body, with a wet, squelching sound before putting the bloody blade down on the table. Zirena let out a soft chirp, before burying her right arm into the man's torso to her elbow. She felt around and then yanked hard pulling out the heart. It was slightly larger than the palm of her hand, and she lifted it to her nose to inhale the metallic scent of Chris's blood even as it ran down her arm.

Ravyn smiled as she watched her sister start to eat the still warm heart of the man she had killed for their meal. She continued to strip more pieces off his chest, slowly eating each piece. The liver was a delicacy and as Ravyn pulled it out she looked to her sister, her fangs having lengthened, protruding from her lips. “Shall we share?”

The two of them feasted on the liver, the gritty texture not bothering either of them as they were used to such things. One body was enough to sustain them for a few days until they would need to hunt again. Ravyn lifted the body, hoisting it over her shoulder while Zirena cleaned the cabin with magic leaving no trace that they had ever been there. They left the cabin together, and while Ravyn found a bear den to deposit the remains of what had once been Chris. Zirena went to a hot spring that was close to their cavern to wash the blood off her body.

Ravyn joined her not that much later and the two sisters bathed in the hot springs, washing away the blood from their latest meal. “Zirena, I think we should move on.”

Zirena sighed loudly, “I don't want to leave, and I like it here. They have hot springs, no one can find our cavern. Campers and tourists come year around.”

Dunking her head, Ravyn came up, and pushed her wet locks behind her ears, “Do you remember what I told you about Hunters?”

Zirena bit her lower lip and nodded slightly, “Yes, you said that if they found us, they would kill us.” She said, swimming to the edge of the hot spring where she sat down and pulled her knees into her chest. “I don't understand why.”

Ravyn sat next to her sister and put her arm around those slender shoulders, “Because that is what hunters do. They track us down and kill us, which is why we have to keep moving.” Zirena sniffled slightly, making Ravyn tighten her hold. “I know this place is beautiful, but we have to keep going, we can't afford to get caught.” she said, I can't afford to let anything happen to you, you're my family and all I have.

“I know, but, I just want to stay put for longer than a few months. Every time we settle somewhere, we have to move.” Zirena spoke, “I'm just tired, Ravyn. But...I understand.”

“We should pack up and leave while its still night, we can find a tree to sleep in during the day.” Ravyn said. Rising from the hot spring like a nymph, her pale form almost sparkling in the moonlight. She held her hand out to Zirena who took it and got to her feet. Together they shook out their wings and flew back to the cavern where they had been living for the last two months.

The girls dressed quietly and swiftly, wearing skin tight body suits to cut down on wind resistance. Packing their belongings into the small duffel bags, they didn't carry much as they never stayed in one place for too long a time. They looked around for anything they may have missed, but they'd be returning here at some point in the future, Zirena was the one who stirred the fire to make sure it was fully out before she joined her sister at the cavern entrance. “I'm ready.”

“Don't worry, little sister, we'll return.” Ravyn said giving her sister a hug, “we always do.”

“Yes, we always do.” Thunder crashed below them as the waves rushed the inlet with the speed of a striking cobra. And by the time the plume of water had dissipated, the two sisters were gone.

 

~*~


	5. Lebanon, Kansas

Lebanon, Kansas

 

Sam yawned and scratched at his belly while making his way to the kitchen for breakfast but he wandered in another direction when he heard the sound of keys tapping from the library. He knew that without an alarm clock Dean was NOT an early riser, and wondered idly if it was Castiel who had returned from Heaven. Rubbing the back of his neck, Sam worried about the angel that was their friend, their brother, their guardian. He poked his mussed head into the library to find Dean sitting at one of the tables, his laptop open and a couple of newspapers strewn around him. “Dean, what are you doing up? Isn't this a little...early for you?”

“Early bird catches the worm, Sammy!” Dean replied as he shoved a whole doughnut in his mouth, then looked up at his brother, “nice bed head.” he muttered.

Self-consciously, Sam ran his fingers through his hair wincing when he ran into the occasional snarl but managed to make it somewhat presentable. Poking around in the box, he scowled, “Did you eat all the jelly filled?” He asked of Dean, “And what are you doing?”

Dean grunted his mouth covered in powdered sugar, “Yep, have a cruller.” he responded, watching as Sam scowled then reached into the extremely pink box to find a cruller. Dean snickered then looked up at his brother, “what's it look like I'm doin' Sammy? I'm trying to find a case.” Dean responded.

Sam sighed audibly. “Dean, I'm glad you're back, but maybe...maybe you should take a couple of days.”

Dean snorted, “Don't need to. I'm fine.” he paused and gave Sam one of his rare smiles, “Anyway, just wanted to get back to work.”

“Okay, well I'm going to grab some coffee,”

“No need.” Dean slid a large Styrofoam cup of it across the table in Sam's direction, “Got you some when I picked up the doughnuts.”

Sam went wide eyed, “who are you and what have you done to my brother?”

Dean's lip curled into a snarl. He closed the lid of the laptop with a little more force than may have been necessary, “Fine, next time I won't do anything nice for you.” Dean snapped, getting to his feet.

Sam flinched, “I'm sorry, Dean. It's just been awhile since you went on a doughnut and coffee run.”

Dean's face softened a fraction, “Sorry, Sammy. Just...itching to get out there again, I guess.”

A nod, “well, why don't you go gas up the Impala, make sure the trunk is stocked up. I'll grab a quick shower,”

“Yeah, you should, you're a little musky.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean spoke, grabbing his leather jacket and slinging it on while he headed for the indoor garage. “See you later, Sammy!” he said, starting to whistle, 'Highway to Hell' under his breath.

“Have a good time, Dean! And its SAM!” Sam shouted as he got up and headed towards the bunker's bathroom intent on a shower to wake him the fuck up and let him figure out exactly what had just happened.

Upon reaching the garage, Dean flicked the switch bathing the room in fluorescent light. Cars lined one side of the garage, slots for motorcycles on the other. Most of the cars were classics, including the one Dean swore was in the Titanic movie. Not that he'd ever seen Titanic. Okay, he had but only for Kate Winslet's rack. But they were all obsolete in place of the Impala. His Baby was parked under one of the overhead lamps. Her paint glistening, the chrome gleaming and Dean laid a reverent hand on her. “Did you miss me, Baby?” He asked knowing full well that she wasn't going to answer. “Let's go for a drive.”

Dean opened the door and slid onto the leather seats, still butter soft after all this time. She was old. A classic. But he took damned good care of her. Dean turned the key in the ignition and the engine came to life. Pressing a bit on the gas, the Impala roared like a jungle cat before Dean let it idle just to hear her purr. He eased her out of the garage and onto the blacktop, putting a tape of Metallica in the deck and turning it up just in time to hear James Hetfield start crooning _Nothing Else Matters_ , one of Dean's favorites.

He drove for a half hour or so, just drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. Enjoying the thrum of the Impala's engine, the sounds of Metallica, and most importantly, the wind whipping through the open windows when it happened. He felt a tug on the edges of his consciousness. Pulling the Impala over to the side of the road, Dean shut the engine off and closed his eyes. The pull was getting worse and he was compelled to answer it. Dean suddenly vanished from the interior of the Impala.

 

~*~

 

Freshly showered, Sam is padding barefoot through the bunker, heading back to his room when he scents sulfur in the air and it seems to be coming from Dean's space. Poking his head in the room, he noticed that Dean had set up all his stuff again, the records in the corner, the weapons on the walls. It seemed like Dean had made this room his home again, which was fine for Sam. It may have taken him a lot longer than Dean but he too was beginning to see the bunker as home and maybe, just maybe it was time to put some things in his own bedroom to make it his. Shaking his head, Sam shoved a hand through his wet hair and stalked back to his room to dress before he called Cas.

Once dressed, Sam headed back to the library. He barely closed his eyes before he spoke, “Cas, if you're around, I could uh, use a little help here,” he barely had to say anything more as he felt and heard the rustling of wings. Opening his eyes he looked at Castiel.

“Hello, Sam.” Castiel said. He looked over the younger of the Winchester brothers. _The only Winchester brother_. His mind supplied him making him smile sadly. Though he was glad at least one of them had survived.

“Cas, is that...you?” Sam inquired. It was Castiel but not the Castiel he remembered. This one was different. He was radiating power. It was almost a visible aura around his vessel's body. Speaking of the body, Castiel was wearing jeans, honest to God blue jeans. A black t-shirt, and actual hiking boots. His trademark trench coat was still there though, and for Sam it was what made Castiel...Castiel.

“Yes, it is me. Who else would it be?” Castiel replied, “Sam, I have to apologize.”

“For what, Cas?”

“Not being able to save Dean, I should have...” His voice, the normal gravelly tone was rougher with the emotion the angel was trying to hide but it changed when he glanced at Sam's face, “What is it?”

“Dean's alive.”

Castiel shook his head, “That is not possible. Metatron said...he said...”

“Cas, Dean died in my arms back at that warehouse. I carried him here to the bunker. I got extremely drunk,”

“You summoned Crowley and made a deal.” Castiel spoke as though stating a fact.

Sam shook his head, “No, I didn't Cas. Dean asked me not to. He was ready to die, Cas. But you know me, I wasn't ready to lose my brother.”

“And he would do the same for you.” Castiel said softly, placing his hand on Sam's shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah, he would.” Sam cleared his throat, “Well, Crowley didn't show and when I went to go prepare Dean's body for a Hunter's burial, I discovered that he was gone. I found him in the shower. Alive and breathing.”

Castiel slowly processed the information. “Sam, does Dean still have the mark?”

Sam frowned, “I didn't even think to look Cas.”

 

~*~


	6. Hell

Hell

 

The dilapidated castle was just the way he remembered from years ago, so was his room as that was where he had clearly been summoned. Crowley stood there, dressed in a sharp black suit, and Dean could see the hell hound that was at his side. “Welcome home, Dean. Ready to take a howl at the moon?”

Dean didn't respond. He strode over to the balcony where he had spent many hours just watching Hell from a distance, when he wasn't torturing souls that is. From where he stood, the Gates of Hell were visible. They were carved out of weathered black stone. Hell Hounds paced restlessly before them and several imps danced maniacally around the condemned souls that were on their way through the arch. Fires blazed behind macabre niches made of bone and sinew, the screams of the damned echoing like a deathly choir. “What do you want, Crowley?” Dean's voice was a growl. Ruins of previous civilizations littered the barren landscape. Rivers of molten lava flowed through craggy canyons emptying into a large lake where a ship rocked amidst the waves. The ship itself was triple masted, with a long bow in front the figurehead was a twisted version of an angel.

“Now, is that any way to speak to an old domestic partner in crime?”

Dean snarled, “We are NOT partners, Crowley.”

Crowley feigned a hurt expression then turned as the sound of footsteps approached. “What about me, Dean? Are we not partners?” came the soft voice

“Azai,” Dean murmured as he watched her glide into the room. Even Crowley stepped aside allowing her to pass. The tattered harem pants she had once worn were gone, replaced by skin tight leather pants with lacing over the slender thighs, a white tank-top encased her upper body, and her wings were still there. Still the same way he remembered them. Deformed. Tilted in strange angles. Covered in bandages though these seemed fresher. “You're still here.”

“Where else would I be? But waiting in your chambers for you.” She replied, moving to his side. Slowly her fingers trailed over his cotton clad chest.

Dean shuddered under her touch. He remembered a lot of things from his time here in Hell. He knew that even though he was a demon now, it was not where he wanted to be. Placing the palm of her hand against his cheek a memory slammed through him.

. . . _When Azai came to him that night, Dean was curled into a ball on a pile of rags that had once been his clothes. The door creaked on rusty hinges, a sound he was so used to it no longer fazed him. She padded soundlessly over on bare feet. Azai looked at him. The way he was curled on himself, the blood that was staining his skin, “Dean...” she called his name softly as not to spook him._

_“Get out.” She didn't speak but placed a gentle hand on his cheek. Dean snarled and grabbed it, twisting her wrist viciously, “I said...Get. Out.” he shoved her back. “Just...leave me alone.”_

_“You are hurt.”_

_Dean laughed. Azai nearly shrank back from the psychotic sound that left his lips. “Glad you noticed. So, what you and your wings are gonna heal me up, get me ready for more torture?” He asked, as he rose shakily to his feet. She reached for him again. He gripped both her wrists in one hand slamming her against a wall. He wedged his knee between her thighs trapping her in place. “Why do you do this? Tell me the truth.”_

_“It is my penance.” Dean's hand tightened on her throat, until she was gripping his forearm with her smaller fingers. Her eyes, azure blue slowly bled to pure white._

_“You're like Lilith...” he swore._

_Azai struggled in his grip. “I am nothing like Lilith!” she gasped out._

_Dean released his grip on her throat, but not the one on her wrists. Keeping her suspended and trapped. He studied her with his green eyes, watching as her own eyes bled from white back to the blue. “You're right. Where she likes to hurt and maim. You heal.” He said slowly releasing her wrists and lowering her to the floor. “I'm sorry.” Dean spoke, lifting her chin as he tilted her head to the side to see how much damage he had actually done._

_She didn't answer but raised up on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. As warmth surrounded him, infused his soul with light, Dean's thumb trailed over her cheekbone. Turning her face into it, she pulled back and looked up at him, “I should go.” she whispered, before extracting herself from his arms and quickly leaving._

_“Hey, Azai?” He called just as she got to the door. She paused and turned glancing over her shoulder at him, her blond locks falling in her eyes. “Thank you.”_

_“You are welcome.” she replied before leaving_ . . .

“I don't belong here.” Dean said, as he pushed her away.

“Dean, my boy, this is where you belong. This is your home now. Hell is your home.”

“No. Never. I'd rather be with Sam.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes, “Always the Moose. What is it about that gargantuan meat sack that draws you to him like a moth to a flame?”

“He. Is. Family.” Dean snarled, and the look on Dean's face made Crowley back up a step. “If you touch my brother, you'll regret it. Alistair taught me well, and I remember every lesson he taught me.” He finished, “are we through?”

“Yes. But do remember Dean, you work for me.”

The mark of Cain on Dean's arm started to glow, and even though the blade wasn't with him, he knew the power it held. “I don't work for you, Crowley. Remember, I took down Abaddon, and you retained your place as King of Hell. Do you remember how I slid that blade into her belly? The way she screamed as she disintegrated? I told you that when I was done with Metatron, I'd be back for you.”

Crowley nodded, “I do remember that, yes.”

“I'm going to make this easy for your brain to process, Crowley.” Dean said as he advanced on the King of Hell, who was backing away from Dean who had a crazed look in his eyes. His voice a growl, “I don't work for you. In fact, I don't know you, you will leave me and my brother alone. If I so much as smell you near us, I’ll gut you like I did Abaddon.” Dean finished. The two demons were nearly nose to nose, “do I make myself clear.”

“Crystal.” Crowley responded.

Dean nodded and vanished, leaving Crowley and Azai. He showed up back at the Impala. Got behind the wheel, heading for the nearest gas station. Once the Impala was all gassed up, he checked the trunk actually wincing at the Devil's Trap painted on the lid. Rummaging around, he made sure that everything was up to his standard. With a grunt, Dean slammed the trunk closed and headed back to the bunker.

 

~*~


	7. Lebanon, Kansas

Lebanon, Kansas

 

Sam was asking Cas about his grace and if he found it again when the door to the bunker opened and Dean strode in. His boots ringing on the metal flooring as he came down the stairs. He tossed a bag of supplies on the table and grinned at the angel. “Hey Cas.” Castiel turned and gazed at Dean for a long moment. Something under Dean's skin shifted and that was all that Cas needed. “Cas?” Dean prompted.

Lighting fast, Castiel slammed Dean against the nearest wall, pinning him in place with an arm across his throat, “What. Have. You. Done?!” his voice had lowered an octave and more gravelly than usual. Sam was out of his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get to Castiel who was pressing harder on Dean's throat. Sam reached up and tried in vain to pull Castiel's arm away and couldn't. 

Dean knew that he could pull away from Castiel easily, as he is probably just as strong as the angel is now. But he could never hurt Castiel, no matter what. Sam looked between them, “Cas, what is it?”

“He's a demon, Sam.” Castiel replied. He felt his angel blade slide into his hand. The metal felt at home there. The familiar weight of it, soothing. Castiel pressed the point of it into Dean's stomach. “Answer me, Dean.”

Dean tilted his head to the side as best he could. His eyes sliding to that inky blackness confirming the fact that he was a demon. “You gonna kill me, Cas?” Sam inhaled sharply and backed up several steps. But now it all made sense. The scent of sulfur in Dean's room. The lack of sleep. Then again, Dean had been eating and drinking. Castiel shoved Dean away from himself, because he knew that he could never kill Dean Winchester. Even when Naomi had brainwashed him. Forced him to kill clone after clone of Dean. When it came time for the actual deed, Dean had broken through to him. Dean cracked his neck and looked at them both, “so, what now? Huh?”

Sam's brain was already working to find a solution, the cogs in his head turning. “What about an exorcism, we could do that, right Cas?” Dean snorted amused. “What, Dean?”

“You can't exorcise a demon from their own body. And it is my body, Sam.” he replied as his eyes went back to their normal green color. “If you were to exorcise me, you'd lose me forever, is that what you want?”

Sam sighed, “No.”

Dean pressed on, “And don't even think about using the last trial that nearly killed you, because even if it works on me. Sammy, you'll die and I can't have that.”

Sam shook his head, “Dean, this is not how I want you to be. I want my brother back.”

“Well, you got me Sammy. I may not be what you want, but you know what? We're family and you don't turn your back on family. This is how it’s going to be, there is no going back for me. Not this time.” Dean didn't notice the look of hurt that covered Castiel's face but Sam did, but with a rustling of wings, Castiel was gone. “He didn't even say goodbye.” Dean quipped.

“Maybe that was him saying goodbye, Dean.” Sam said as he looked at his brother sadly, “Goodbye to you.” With a sigh, Sam strode off, slamming the door to his bedroom as he left Dean standing there in the library, alone.

“Sonuvabitch.” Dean snarled, taking a breath. Picking up the bag of groceries, Dean headed towards the kitchen.

 

~*~


	8. Cedar City, Utah

Cedar City, Utah

 

The body was found in the Narrows. Washed ashore by the floods that had come due to the thunderstorm. Park Rangers who had discovered the body sent it to Cedar City, Utah, for the autopsy. The coroner hadn't seen this kind of carnage since the previous year, and the two bodies that had shown up then. A couple of weeks apart, then silence until the following season. He made notes into a small recorder. “Unidentified white male. Approximately thirty to thirty five years of age. Height is around six feet, two inches tall, and one hundred and seventy five pounds.” The old man shuffled about the body, poking at the body to see if there were any birthmarks, scars or tattoos. “One scar on the left shin, teardrop in shape.” He set the recorder down and took the victim's fingerprints for identification purposes.

The man pushed his glasses up on his nose, and turned the recorder on again even as he swung a large magnifying glass over the body. “Splinters found in the muscles of the thighs, unknown origin, but may have been embedded as he washed down the river.” He used some tweezers and removed splinters, then looked at the edges of the wound. “The wound in the thigh, where the muscle has been gashed, looks to have been made by animals.” he pushed the magnifying glass away and shuffled to the tray to pick up a scalpel. Making a Y incision in the chest, he spread the skin and checked to see if the ribs were broken. “Ribs are intact but...this is odd.” he reached for the rib cutter, and cut the ribs, “The heart, appears to have been taken from the cavity without the removal of the ribs which rules out an animal being responsible.”

Turning the recorder off, the coroner removed his gloves and walked over to the small desk to hand write out the notes from the recording into the chart which would then be turned over to the local police force who would then take it to the Rangers.

 

~*~

 

The bell over the shop door tinkled merrily, as the young woman standing behind the counter warmly smiled at the young man, “Welcome to Frontier Badlands, how can I help you today?” The small shop that was stocked to the ceiling with various camping supplies from sleeping bags to battery run lanterns was devoid of customers save for a straggler or two.

The young man, whose dark hair fell into his eyes smiled a bit, “I'm just looking for some new camping equipment, I found a nice spot by the river and the rangers said I could camp there.”

Zirena smiled, though her name tag read: Sarah. “Sure, let me show you a few things.” She moved from behind the counter and headed over to the tents first. “Did you want a tent, we have several sizes, pup to extra-large.”

The young man shrugged, “I'm not sure....”

She looked thoughtful, “well is it just you...or did you have a girlfriend with you?”

“Just me.” he said quickly, clearing his throat.

Zirena nodded, “So the tents are here, um, sleeping bags over there in the corner. Everything else you may need is scattered about the store. If you need me, I'll be at the counter.”

“Thank you,” He started then glanced down at her name tag, “Sarah.”

Zirena smiled warmly at him then made her way back to the counter where she kept an eye on the young man who was wandering about the store now, picking out several things and placing them on the counter before heading back into the depths of the store.

 

~*~

 

Ravyn was getting hungry again. Human food was good, especially raw meat. She adored steak tartar, and rare burgers, but there was nothing like the joy of the kill. She worried about her beloved sister, Zirena and how her sister wasn't a killer perse, but she did know how to pick a fine target. Zirena was currently working at the local survival shop while she waitressed in one of the local restaurants. They were both good at laying low and were not above using their powers. Since the town had a steady influx of new people, singles, couples but mostly tourists, it was easy to pick off the stragglers.

On her break, Ravyn decided to check on her sister and strode across Main Street to Frontier Badlands. The bell tinkled as she opened the door, instantly spotting Zirena talking to a young man at the counter. The young man was tall and lanky, with short blondish brown hair, and hazel eyes. Jeans covered Converse sneakers, and a blue, brown, and green plaid shirt was on his chest. “Hey sis, be with you in a second.” Zirena said giving her a sister a nod.

“No rush, I'm on my break. You know I can't resist the jerky here.” Ravyn responded, “And to check on you.” she finished, grabbing a package of the teriyaki flavored jerky from the shelf and placing it on the counter.

The young man finished his purchases and carried them out to a Jeep Wrangler, which had a large kayak strapped to the roof frame. “Be careful of the rapids, they can be deadly.” Zirena said as he came back in for his receipt.

“Thanks, Sarah. See you around, maybe?”

“I'd like that.” The sisters then watched him walk over to the Jeep and started it up, driving away in a crunch of gravel. Zirena then turned, “I like him.”

“What do you know?”

“He came alone. He's staying for a week along the Virgin River, by Angel's Landing. I think he's planning to do a lot of kayaking.”

“He was flirting with you.” Ravyn said in response, “do you want to take this one? It would be your first.” She finished. Usually, when initial contact was made that sister took the kill. Zirena, however while she loved the hunt, and the feasting was not a killer in her heart. Not like Ravyn was.

“No, you can do it.” Zirena said softly, while reaching for the jerky to ring it up.

“You're squeamish.” Ravyn spoke, eyeing her sister, “you have to make your first kill sooner or later.”

She would never admit it to Ravyn, but she had done her fair share of kills, mostly animals. Zirena had the taste for human flesh as Ravyn did, but it was not nearly as strong. Unlike Ravyn, she could go weeks without it. “I know, but I'm not ready.”

Ravyn shook her head, “Zirena, it has been two centuries, and you still haven't made a kill.”

“I said I wasn't ready!” she snapped at her sister. “You'd better go, I have to finish organizing the stock, and your break is almost over.” she said, turning her back on Ravyn. It was not usual for her to take such a stand but she was tired of always having to defend herself to her sister. She wasn't ready, she would probably never be ready, but there was no way that Ravyn was going to accept that.

Ravyn sighed, picking up the packet of jerky. She watched as Zirena made her way to one of the aisles and started moving things around. “I'll see you tonight, then?”

“Yes. Have a good day!” Zirena responded.

It was four days later that the body of the young man was found by the shores of the Virgin River, beneath the rock formation of Angels Landing. However the two women who had been in town for a few weeks were gone and no one even remembered they had been there.

 

~*~


	9. Lebanon, Kansas

Lebanon, Kansas

 

“SAMMY!” Dean shouted to be heard through the bunker and over the strains of Kansas which was blasting from Dean's portable stereo. “DINNER!” He hummed along with Carry On Wayward Son, as he flipped the burgers onto plates. Dean had been hurt by his brother, when Sam had said that he didn’t know who Dean was anymore, and quite frankly, Dean had agreed with him though he'd never admit it. Sam shuffled into the kitchen, with a small book in his hands. Clearly he had been reading possibly in bed as his shoulder length hair was mussed. “Even made you a salad.” Dean said, pushing the plate of greens in the direction of his brother.

“Thanks, Dean.” Sam replied. He sat down in the nearest chair, and picked up a fork, pushing the lettuce leaves around his plate still engrossed in his book.

Dean frowned, reached over and snatched the book from Sam's hands. Sam leveled a bitchface at him and was met with one of Dean's patented shrugs, “no reading at the dinner table. Anyway, I thought we should continue hunting. There are still plenty of things out there that people need to be protected from.”

“Yeah, including you.”

“Sam, I'm still the same person, just...improved.” He picked up his burger and took a bite. “Sammy, we're family. But look, if you really don't want to hunt anymore...you can stay here in the bunker.” Dean finally finished as he put the remnants of his burger down on the plate. Suddenly, he was no longer hungry for food. “Saving people. Hunting things. The family business. But it was never the lifestyle you would have chosen is it?”

Sam hung his head slightly, “No. Its not, but you're forgetting one thing, Dean.” Sam paused and looked up into those green eyes that were still familiar even if Sam knew that the demon residing within his brother lurked like the predator it was. “We’re pretty formidable when we're apart, but together, we're invincible. We look out for each other as you have always said.”

Dean nodded, “Yeah, each time we were together we were unstoppable, and when we were apart, well...” his voice trailed off as he closed his eyes for a moment, “it wasn't the best of times.”

The two brothers finished their dinner and Sam sighed happily as he rubbed his stomach through the thin t-shirt he was wearing. “Damn, Dean you may have to cook more often.”

“Sure, but don't expect that rabbit food every time there little brother.”

“Nope. I know you like your red meat.”

Dean snorted, “Yup.” he responded, gathering the dishes as he headed to the sink. Sam cracked his neck and rose from the table headed to the library to see about finding a hunt for them. Dean did the dishes while humming under his breath, the sound of wings behind him made him speak. “Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean.” Castiel replied, watching the former human Hunter now demon take care of the domestic necessities.

Wiping his hands on a towel, Dean turned and stared at the angel. “What do you need, Cas? Come to throw me into a wall again?” Dean then leaned against the counter, crossing his arms across his chest.

“No, Dean. I...I came to see what you're capable of now.”

With a shrug of his shoulders, Dean spoke, “sure, Cas. Whatever floats your boat.” pushing off the counter, Dean made his way to one of the few rooms that he had discovered before he had died. There was the shooting range of course, but close to it was a training room. The wooden floor was covered in soft mats to cushion falls that may occur, and along the edges were various blunt weapons, along with a couple of punching bags for practice. “What do you want to use?” Castiel followed Dean into the training area, and glanced around. There was plenty of space to maneuver about. “Cas, training, what weapon?” It was then that Dean noticed what Castiel was wearing. Castiel was removing the trench coat from his body, folding it almost neatly, and the memory slammed into Dean like a semi-tractor trailer t-boning the Impala.

. . . _The hinges squeaked. Dean opened the trunk of the Impala and reached in, rummaging for something he had carried for months. It was a tan coat, one that he had fished out of the reservoir himself after Castiel had waded in and sank beneath the surface having been possessed by the Leviathan. The coat had always belonged to Castiel, and in Dean's mind, the angel wasn't his Castiel without it. It still had bloodstains on it but he held it out to Castiel who glanced at it for a long moment then took it from him. There were no words, but the two stared at each other for a long moment in time_ . . .

Shaking his head, Dean watched as Cas finished with the coat and set it aside. The angel was wearing a gray short-sleeved t-shirt that was tight against his lean frame, it hung over blue jeans that were loose but not baggy. Dean was stunned for a moment to see the angel in hiking boots. “Nice outfit, Cas.”

“I decided a change was needed.” Castiel replied. Running his fingers through his perpetual bed head mussing the dark strands even more. “I choose these.” he said, pulling a pair of wooden knives off the rack of weapons and tossing one to his opponent.

Dean stared at Castiel for a moment, “ready?”

“If you were really attacking me, Dean. You would not ask if I was ready or not.” Castiel replied as he twirled the wooden blade in the palm of his hand.

The smile that appeared on Dean's face was almost feral. He flipped the blade in his hand and rushed Castiel. Castiel blocked the incoming blade with his left forearm and shoved Dean backwards with his right hand. Using some of his angelic strength for he knew that Dean could take it when before since he was human could not. They fought with increasing speed. The sounds of wood clacking against itself reverberating in the room. There was the occasional grunt. The sound of a body slamming into the mats but the duo never let up.

Sam who had been searching the internet for a nearby hunt heard the noises and tilted his head in the direction from whence it came before his curiosity got the better of him. Rising from his seat he wandered down the hallways of the bunker until he saw a light coming from one of the rooms he hadn't known was even there. Leaning on the doorway Sam watched Dean and Castiel while they went at each other again and again. Neither one giving or gaining ground. It was a match of speed, strength and agility. From the place he stood, Sam could tell that Dean was a shade faster than he had been previously but it was Castiel that he was entranced with. He had never known the angel was that fast or that graceful in a battle even a mock one such as this was.

Dean blocked another strike from Castiel but pushed against the angel's stomach with his hand. Not realizing that his powers were coming into play at this point in time. Castiel went flying backwards, hitting the far wall with a solid thump. The concrete cracking around the impact of the body. Had Castiel been human, he may have broken his spine. “DEAN!” Sam snapped, watching as Castiel rose and perched on the balls of his feet.

“I didn't mean....I mean its Cas for fucks sake.” Dean snarled in response.

“And what if I had been Sam or another human, Dean. Would you be able to curb your powers then?” Castiel inquired, “This is why I chose to see what your abilities were like now that you're a demon. You are more powerful now than you were as a human.”

“Cas,” Sam started.

“Do not worry, Sam. I will be fine.” Castiel started, “Thank you for your concern.”

Sam sighed, shaking his head as he turned and headed back down the hall away from the two battling friends. _Enemies? Frenemies? What the hell are they now? Damn, I have no idea_. Sam thought to himself, pausing in the kitchen to get himself a beer before retreating to his room and closing the door.

The duo faced off. Moving faster and harder. Dean was still learning his powers and Cas was a convenient punching bag. Before they knew it nearly an hour had passed. Both men were bruised and battered. Dean remembered then how Abaddon had him pinned to a wall before he had gutted her like livestock. Thrusting his hand out, he concentrated and pushed at Castiel. Slamming the angel into the wall as he advanced. Castiel struggled but let Dean hold him there though there was a slim chance he could have broken his hold. Dean was approaching but it was the glint of predatory hunger that glittered in Dean's green eyes that made Castiel pause with what he was going to say. “Come on, Cas. We could be so good together.”

Castiel didn't respond. He could feel Dean's breath against his lips. They were so close. A hair's breadth apart, and Castiel's wits scattered to the four winds. “Dean...I...” Castiel started, but was silenced by Dean's mouth closing over his. Dean's tongue, slick muscle that was softer than velvet slid over his chapped lower lip, coaxing it open but Castiel refused to give in. With a low growl in the base of his throat, Dean's fingers came up and twisted in his dark locks holding him in place even while Castiel tried to pull his head back. It didn't matter that the angel had wanted this for a long time, what mattered to him was that this was not the Dean Winchester he knew.

Dean snarled with impatience. Biting that chapped lower lip hard, drawing a bright spot of crimson blood. The metallic taste of it, the tang of copper that spilled into his mouth was the nectar of the Gods and help him, he wanted more. Castiel gasped suddenly, perhaps the pain of the bite getting to him and it was the opportunity that Dean needed. His tongue swept into the depths of Castiel's mouth, tasting the angel for the first time. Castiel tasted of light and heat that touched Dean on a fundamental level and the small granule that was the last of his humanity reached for it. Tendrils reaching for the light that was Castiel's grace. Dean's blood thrummed in his veins, desire rushing through what was left of his soul.

Pinned as he was, Castiel could only attempt to stifle the whimpers that threatened to leave his lips at the onslaught of Dean's kiss. This was nothing like what he had shared with Meg all that time ago. The kiss he had learned from the pizza man, had nothing on what Dean did to him. Where Meg had been all soft curves hiding that thorny interior that he had come to respect, Dean was corded muscle that sought to take all that he was. The heart of his vessel, James Novak who was long gone and the vessel that was Castiel's alone was pounding. Stirrings low in his body were begging him to complete what Dean had started. It confused Castiel and all he knew was that he had to get away and soon.

Breaking the soul-searing kiss that had stolen his breath, and his heart, Castiel stared at Dean. Dean's eyes had gone black with passion, and Castiel realized that they belonged to the demon within Dean. The demon was in control. This wasn't what Dean himself wanted. Castiel struggled against the force that had him pinned. “Dean.” Castiel spoke softly, “let me go.”

Dean's lips curled into a wicked smirk, “why should I? I like where you are.” His thumb came up to wipe at the blood that was beading on Castiel's lower lip. “So good,” he whispered, licking the digit clean.

Castiel had to look away from those obsidian orbs lest he lose himself there. And the mouth. That wanton mouth that was licking his blood off the fleshy pad of his thumb. “This isn't what you want, Dean. Please, release me.”

The smile on Dean's face went from wicked to predatory, “says who, Cas? Who says that this isn't what I want...” Blinking in confusion, Castiel realized that there was one way out of the predicament he found himself in. Without a word, Castiel vanished in a rush of wind and the sound of fluttering wings. With a growl, Dean debated on putting up the angel warding sigils. That would keep Castiel out of the bunker and that was not what he wanted. Dean, at that moment wasn't sure what he wanted truly. All he knew in his darkened heart was that he wanted Castiel to be a part of it. No matter what it took.

Sam was in the library reading a very large text. Muttering to himself while taking notes on his laptop which was presently open and sitting on his right. A pen that Sam had chewed to bits lay next to it, though the cap was still being eaten. “You know, there are snacks in the kitchen if you're that hungry.” Dean quipped as he sauntered in. Tossing himself lazily into a chair. “Whatcha working on?”

“Looking for a hunt, checking some research. Cas gone?”

“Yeah, guess he had some angel shit to take care of.” Dean replied, cracking his neck as though he were bored. Truthfully, something was tugging at him. For the life of him it felt like a summoning. But who would be summoning him? It couldn't be Crowley, he had made his stance on that. Pretty fucking clear if the King of Hell knew what was good for him.

Sam sighed, “Dean, you didn't hurt Cas, did you?”

“No. I mean...he's pretty tough for a nerdy angel with wings.”

A chuckle left Sam's lips, “Yeah that he is.” He tapped a few keys on the keyboard following a couple of prompts. He glanced over at his brother who was strangely acting even twitchier than usual for him. “Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, Sammy. Just...somethin' is bugging me.” Dean responded as the tug became harder, insistent, almost pulling him from where he was and he didn't like it.

“Dean, if you need to go...just...be careful. You may be, you know a demon but you're still my brother.” Sam said as he gazed at his older brother thoughtfully for a few moments before Dean simply disappeared leaving a strong scent of sulfur behind. Waving a hand before his nose, all Sam could think about at that very moment in time was how to get the smell out of the room.

 

~*~


	10. Unknown Location

Unknown Location

 

The small cabin was nestled in a small clearing. Cliffs of impenetrable limestone surrounding it on three sides with only one opening. Dean glanced around wondering who had summoned him, then he saw it. A couple of white boxes that had a constant buzzing sound. Bees. There was only one person that Dean could think of that kept bees. Thought of them as noble creatures. Dean owed him a debt. Cain. The Father of Murder. The one who still had to teach Dean how to shut Crowley up just by saying 'shh.' Dean looked down at his feet where the sigils had been drawn on a stone circle. Frowning as he had no idea what they meant. Cain himself was standing on the porch, leaning on one of the posts wiping his hands on a towel. “Dean Winchester, we meet again. Took you long enough to answer my call.”

Dean walked over to meet him. “Sorry about that.”

“Care for a cup of tea? I'm sure you have questions.” He inquired as he opened the door to the cabin and went inside, leaving it open for Dean to follow or not.

Dean took a deep breath and followed Cain into the small cozy cabin. Glancing around at the one large room, Dean saw a stone fireplace against one wall with a fire already stoked within crackling and popping. The furniture, while spartan seemed to all have been hand wrought of wood and leather cord. He watched as Cain moved to the small kitchen. Which held an old fashioned pot belly stove, a large stack of firewood piled next to it. His china, the same china that he had served both Dean and Crowley in his former home was here. Dean figured it must have belonged to his wife and that was why he brought it with him. Taking a seat in one of the chairs, he finally spoke, “you could say that.”

Cain nodded. Placed the tray on the table, handing Dean one of the china cups, “cream? Sugar? Honey?” he asked. Dean shook his head that he didn't want anything in it. “So, ask your questions.”

“What exactly happened to me. Why am I a demon now?”

“Your words when I tried to tell you the consequences, were I believe, 'you had me at kill the bitch.’ am I wrong?” Cain asked, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a sip. Dean had the decency to blush, “Dean, you are very much like me. Brave, reckless, bold.” Cain continued, putting the cup down on the table. “The mark changed me and made me a Knight of Hell, as you know it was voluntary, but Lucifer himself put the mark on me.” The china clattered slightly as Dean took that bit of information in. “It changed you as well, Dean. When you chose to die, it was something I did as well, and it made me a demon.”

“Like it did to me.”

“Yes, we both chose to die, but the mark didn't want to let us go.”

“You make it sound like it’s alive.” Dean remarked. His fingers rubbed absentmindedly at the mark on his arm.

Cain looked thoughtful, “in a way it is.”

“How do I get rid of it?”

“You have to give it to someone worthy, or just live with it.” Cain replied, “I did. For a very long time, and then I met her.”

“Your wife.”

Cain's face twisted in pain, “yes.” he said softly, “and it was love that kept me human in a sense. She kept me grounded. It was her love that made me give up the blade. Until...” his voice trailed off and Dean looked at him sympathetically.

“Until Abaddon.” Dean finished for him, “how do I keep a hold of who I am. Who I was before...before I became this?”

Cain studied Dean for a few moments, as though searching his soul. “Only love can keep you human. Keep you...grounded.” Cain spoke, “I know you love your brother. Samuel is it?” Dean slowly nodded, “I know that you would sacrifice everything for him.” Cain sighed, it was deep and full of pain. “I killed my brother for the greater good, where you keep saving yours.”

“It’s what I do. What I was ordered to do.”

“Ordered?” Cain inquired. “Sooner or later, you're going to have to let him go.”

“I gave up my LIFE for him!” Dean snarled. “My father told me to watch out for Sammy and that's what I've always done.” He rose from the couch and started to pace agitatedly on the already threadbare rug. “I used to crawl into Sam's crib when he was a baby to help him sleep,” he ran a hand through his hair as his ire rose. “I was there for him when our father wasn't. I'm the one who made sure he ate, and cared for when Dad was out hunting. There were nights I helped him with his homework and forgot about mine, just to make sure his was done.” Dean slumped in a chair for a moment in time. “I barely got my GED, and Sam...” A dark chuckle left his lips, “Sam got into Stanford. Kid wanted to be a lawyer.”

“Oh, well plenty of those in Hell.”

“Don't I know it.” Dean quipped. “But I'd do it all again to keep Sam safe.”

“But now, things have changed, Dean. You can't protect him forever. Sam has to be able to live his life..”

“I'll find a way.” Dean said his voice a growl at the thought of someone taking his brother from him. Even if it was old age. “To keep him with me.”

Cain frowned, “Make sure it is what he wants, Dean. You can't have your brother at your side if it is not what he wants or it will tear you apart. If you love him, make sure it is his choice.”

“Again with the love. So, love will keep me grounded. Love of my family?”

“No, is there someone else, Dean.” Cain spoke as he watched Dean's reaction. 

The fleeting image of Castiel pinned to the wall filled Dean's mind. Those cerulean pools filled with confusion and something else that Dean could not name. _Could it really be that simple?_ Dean was attracted to women, he always had been. But then again, this was Cas he was thinking of. Castiel, the Angel of the Lord, the one who had raised him from Perdition. The Angel who had let him down on more than one occasion to simply rise again and save the day. But did he love Castiel that was the burning question that radiated in his brain. Castiel was his best friend, who came to his call every time. 

“And I think you know who it is.”

Dean blinked, “No. There isn't anyone.”

“My mistake.” Cain said. “About our deal,”

Dean stopped him with a raised hand, “I'm not ready yet. But I gave you my word. And I always keep it.”

“That. I am very much aware of.” Cain replied holding out his hand.

Dean took the offered hand in his own and the two Knights of Hell shook on it. “I'll return when I'm ready. I'm just...not ready. If I have more questions.”

“I will answer them, Dean.” Cain said watching as Dean made his way towards the door. “One thing,”

“What?”

“Tell me one thing about your friend, the one you won't mention.”

“He likes honey.” Dean said. 

Then he was gone. And for Cain, he simply smiled knowingly.

 

~*~


	11. Topeka, Kansas

Topeka, Kansas

 

Sam found them a case, nearby in Topeka. Bodies were showing up drained of blood. Some had puncture wounds in the throat or other places on the body. A few had their wrists slashed. The coroner reported that one of the victims had been hung upside down for the blood had pooled in his spleen. The last body that was found was in a dumpster behind one of the local bars. Dean and Sam Winchester were already at the last crime scene, posing as FBI Agents.

The group had done their best to stay off the radar. Living underground in the sewers of Topeka. But as all things do, it was coming to an end. The newest fledgling had done the worst thing possible. Drained its prey dry and left the body somewhere it was easily discovered. The victim had been moved to the morgue but it was clear from the stains on the concrete that the cause of death was exsanguination. They had seen a lot in their time and very few things surprised them but this, this was chaotic, perhaps the first kill of many. “Dean, we should get a look at the body.” Sam was saying in a low tone, though Dean was studying the blood spatter with shaded eyes. Dean’s gaze was narrowed like a predator with prey, and for Sam it was jarring. He had never seen Dean act this way but then again his brother was a demon now. “Dean?” Sam called to him. Dean seemed to have gone ramrod stiff, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly as though he had caught a scent.

Across the street peering out from a small grate were a pair of brown eyes, tinted with red. The dark head was ensconced within shadow so no one could truly see him or so he thought. _Shit, they called the feds in on this. Mark is not going to like this_. At the thought of the demon, the vampire actually trembled slightly. Mark, for all intents and purposes on the outside seemed calm and in control, but beneath the surface…behind those inky obsidian eyes was a demon like none he had ever seen previously. The shorter of the two Federal Agents turned and piercing green eyes focused with laser like precision on his hiding place. “Fuck.” The vampire intoned. Ducking down from whatever the agent was for it was obvious that he wasn’t human. Quietly as possible, the vampire headed back to the nest where six other vampires were lounging around content for the moment. They waited for the sun to set on another day for it was all about the hunt.

The demon known as Mark appeared, from one of the side chambers. He wore a pair of gray dress pants with a vertical pinstripe shirt of green, maroon and blue. There was no tie but he wore a smart dark navy blue blazer over it. Loafers on his feet which were well worn but quiet. The vampire didn’t even hear the demon’s approach. A pair of glasses were perched on the demon’s face. “Well, David, what did your foray tell you?” the fledgling vampire that had left the body in full view of the public had been properly punished and the whimpers reached David’s ears even as he noticed the demon wiping his hands on a cloth.

“The FBI has arrived.”

That made one of Mark’s eyebrows raise slightly. There was more to this than met the eye and somehow, David knew something else. “What is it? You look very, what is the word I am looking for here…flustered is appropriate.”

“One of the Federal Agents, he…he sensed me.”

“A sensitive, or a psychic perhaps.”

David shook his head in the negative, “no, he was not even looking at me then suddenly his head turned and he looked dead at me as though he saw me.”

Mark’s hand whipped out inhumanly fast. Grasping David around the throat. “A Hunter. Did they follow you?”

“No, sir.”

“I should hope not for your sake.” Mark said releasing the vampire from his iron clad grip, “or you will be the first to die.”

 

~*~

 

The Sewers of Topeka, Kansas

 

Dean was quiet tracking the vampires using his demonic senses. His eyes were solid black which thankfully Sam couldn't see. Dean knew it made him uncomfortable. In Dean's hand was the First Blade. Sam was following his brother, without a flashlight and the two were making very little noise. Though the sound of squeaking rats scurrying through the tunnels was enough to set nerves on edge. “Are we close?” Sam whispered.

“Yeah, I can hear them.” Dean said, turning left down a side tunnel. Up ahead in the distance, the brothers could see the orange flickering lights of torches illuminating an archway. No doors. No curtains. Just the arch and the voices seemed to be getting louder. Dean gripped the blade handle tighter, flipping it around so that the flat of the blade rested against his forearm in a reverse grip. “Let's waste these douchebags.” Dean said. Sam could almost see the feral smile on his lips. They entered the chamber, barely noticing the tapestries that adorned the walls. The six vampires all hissed and advanced on the Hunters. The First Blade in hand, Dean went to work. Sam took on two by himself, his own blade flashing in the firelight. The second vampire got the advantage on Sam knocking him backwards into a wall where he slumped down the concrete and didn't move. “SAMMY!” Dean shouted, his eyes almost glowing red so great was his anger. He leapt into the air, tucking into a graceful roll, only to come out of it and slam the blade to the hilt in the vampire's spine.

Sam groaned and blinked as he watched Dean dispatch the other four vampires with the First Blade and it was at that moment in time that Sam realized Dean was graceful. And deadly. He had been trained to fight by their father, but now that he had demonic powers at his beck and call. He was a force to be reckoned with. “Dean Winchester, we meet at last.” the last one spoke as he entered from an antechamber.

Dean narrowed his gaze, “Do I fucking know you?”

“No, but I know of you. The one that angels raised from the Pit. The Hunter who is now a demon.” Mark whispered, as he approached.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you like I did your . . . flock.”

Sam swallowed heavily. The man's eyes went pitch black. “Because, Dean Winchester. We are brothers.” He gingerly approached, as though sizing up the demon that resided within Dean Winchester, “Would you kill your brother?”

Dean froze, the First Blade dropping from numb fingers. The thought of Sam, dying in his arms all those years ago running to the surface of his thoughts.

. . . _Jake twisted the knife, creating a massive wound in Sam's back before running away. Sam, gasping for breath fell to his knees. Dean slid to the ground before his little brother. He grabbed at Sam's shirt trying to keep him conscious. “No, Sam!” Sam slumped forwards onto Dean's shoulder, “Whoa, whoa, Sam. Sam! Hey! Hey. Come here, let me look at you.” Dean slipped his arms around his brother, half hugging him, half holding him upright. His palm sticky with blood from the wound. “Hey, look at me. It’s not even that bad, all right? Sammy? Sam!” Dean is struggling to hold onto his brother, even as Sam's head is wobbling this way and that. “Hey, listen to me. Gonna patch you up, okay? Good as new, huh? I'm gonna take care of you. I've got you. That's my job right? Watch out for my pain in the ass little brother?” Dean touched Sam's cheek lightly with his fingertips. “Sam? Sam! Sammy!”_

 _Sam looked at Dean, with the last of his strength. There is a soft, almost gentle smile on his lips. His eyes slide shut and his entire body slumps forwards into Dean's. “No. No, no, no, no, no! Oh, God...” Dean is crying at this very moment in time, the droplets streaming down his face. Rocking his baby brother in his arms, Dean knows he's gone, “SAM!”_. . .

“No, I wouldn't.” he whispered.

“That's what I thought. But that one...” he gestured to Sam, “is in your way. In the way of what you could become. What you are.” Mark strode over to where Sam was attempting to get to his feet. The demon pulling a wicked blade out of his pants.

“Dean...DEAN!” Sam snapped and it pulled everything into focus for the demonic hunter. When Dean turned to glance at Sam, it was as if all the humanity was gone. In its place was nothing more than the demon. Obsidian eyes focused with predator like intensity, his lips curled into a snarl. Dean wasted no time, crossing the room in three powerful strides.

“Don't TOUCH my brother!” Dean placed his hand against the demon's face intending to snap his neck but that was not what occurred. Red light flared out of the demon's eyes and mouth as Dean smote him. It was a trick that most demons couldn't do and Sam had only seen angels do it. But Dean knew better. And it all started to fall into place. The smoldering husk that had once been a demon named Mark, now lifeless hit the ground with a resounding thud. As soon as it began it was over and Dean was seemingly Dean again.

Sam was staring at Dean his eyes filled with concern and he wondered to himself what use he was to Dean. “Let's go.” Sam said. He pushed himself to his feet and picked up the blade that had fallen from his hand watching warily as Dean picked up the First Blade, having dropped it to smite the demon threatening his brother and tucked it into the holster at the small of his back.

Together they made their way from the sewers. Dean took the rear guard just watching their backs in case of more vampires, though he wasn't sensing any. Dean slid behind the wheel of the Impala and started the engine listening to it rumble. “You okay, Sammy?” Dean asked as he pulled out onto the road heading back towards the outskirts of town.

“Dean, we've saved so many, maybe this...this is a good thing, maybe it’s the world's way of saying it’s time to retire.”

Dean quirked a brow, a frown marring his face. The Impala wound its way through back roads, “Nah, Sammy, this is my life and I'm in it. But I understand if you want to go your own way.” Cain was right in a sense, he had to let Sammy go. He was an adult and had the right to do what he wanted with his life.

“You want me to leave, Dean? I mean what good am I now to you? You're a demon and I'm just...I'm your brother and human.”

Dean brought the Impala to a complete stop. Stomping on the brakes so hard the tires locked and squealed leaving tread marks on the asphalt. “You're family, Sammy! But...someone told me that sometimes you have to let the ones you love go...to live their own lives.”

Sam glanced sideways at Dean and sighed, “I...I don't want to go Dean, but you're all...different now. You look like you get off on the violence.”

“You know what? I don't want to talk about this anymore.” Dean said, jamming the gear shift into drive and roaring from the side of the road. 

_You never do_. Sam thought to himself closing his eyes. 

It was an hour later when Dean saw that Sam was sound asleep. His head pressed against the window, his lips slightly parted. Dean's lips quirked into a half smile, as he pulled into a motel and parked. Climbing out, he headed to the office which thankfully was still open.

“Help you?” the grizzled old man asked as he got up from his stool and scratched at his belly.

“I need two rooms.” Dean responded pulling his wallet from the rear pocket of his well-worn jeans. He pulled out a credit card, eyes flicking to the name on it before handing it over. He watched as the card was swiped, and the old man got two keys off the wall.

“Rooms seven and eight.” he said passing over the keys.

Dean nodded, “thanks.” he muttered as he headed back to the Impala where Sam was stirring. “Hey, got us two rooms.” he said slipping behind the wheel and driving over to the two rooms he had procured. Sam was pretty much dead on his feet, climbing from the car and leaning heavily on Dean. Dean helped Sam into the hotel room and over to the queen sized bed, where Sam heavily flopped on it, sprawling his limbs in all directions. Shaking his head, Dean headed back to the car to grab Sam's bag which he carried in, putting it on the table only to move to his brother's feet and remove his boots. “Night Sammy.” Dean said letting himself out, leaving the key behind on the table.

 

~*~


	12. Mahattan, Kansas

Sleep Eazy Motel, Manhattan Kansas

 

Once in his own room, Dean stripped out of his shirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair. He sat down on the edge of the bed and toed off the hiking boots that he favored, letting them fall wherever they would. His socks came next which he balled up, shoving them into his left boot. He stretched his upper body before rising and heading for the bathroom. As a demon, he didn't need to do a lot of things that humans did, not anymore. Bathing. Eating. Sleeping. It was all moot for a demon, but Dean was a creature of habit and habits were hard to break. Reaching into the shower, Dean twisted the knobs until the water came out piping hot, filling the small room with steam even as he dropped the worn jeans from his hips and stepped into the spray.

Placing his hands on the tile, Dean let the scalding water cascade over his body. Hanging his head beneath the spray, he could almost feel the tension of the day sliding away. Rolling his neck while the heat permeated his skin, Dean let out a heavy sigh. Shutting the water off, he pulled one of the threadbare towels off the rack and wrapped it around his trim waist. Padding on bare feet over to his duffel bag, Dean unzipped it and rummaged around finding a clean pair of boxers. Dropping the towel, he slid into the boxers and reclined on the bed, while reaching for the remote control. Flipping through the various stations only to find nothing on, Dean growled low and turned out the light. Again, he was a creature of habit and needed his four hours demon, or not.

Dean was thinking about Cas as he slid into slumber, and his dreams plagued him. Memories that he had long since buried about the angel were coming to light for in his subconscious there were no barriers. His mind was replaying the kiss that he had shared with Castiel in full Technicolor glory and he sat straight up in the bed panting and covered in a light sheen of sweat. “Fuck.” Dean muttered. He ran a hand through his short hair. Then he realized that he wasn't alone. “Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel said from where he was leaning against the table watching Dean.

Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet hitting the threadbare carpet and he glared at the angel, “what are you doing here?”

Castiel swallowed, and all Dean could do was watch him do it. “I came to speak with you.” Glancing around the room, Castiel noticed that there was only one bed. “Where is Sam?”

Dean rolled his shoulders, and Castiel was suddenly finding himself fascinated by the freckles that were gracing Dean’s skin. “Next door. One good thing about the bunker, there is privacy.” Dean responded tuning his head and giving Castiel an indecipherable look while he put on a t-shirt.

Castiel blinked, “would you like me to leave, Dean?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes, “no, I want you to tell me why you are here.”

Castiel never wavered from where he leaned against the table, “the mark did this to you didn’t it?” he inquired. Finally pushing off the table and advancing on Dean, who stood there not denying it nor agreeing with it either. “Dean, we can find a way to make you…you again.”

“What the fuck, Cas. Did you and Sam have some sort of intervention? This is how it is, dammit. I can’t go back to the way I was and even if I could, I like this me.”

“Dean, Sam just wants his brother back and I…”

“You what, Cas?”

“It’s nothing.”

Dean took two steps forward and was suddenly in Castiel’s personal space, something he had gotten after the angel to stay out of and it had taken years. But then here they were with Dean in Castiel’s personal space. So close their breaths, which neither one actually had to do were intermingling against parted lips. “Don’t spout that bullshit to me, Cas. This is the last time you get to spring something like that on me and not finish it and if you fly out of here, don't you even think of coming back.” Dean growled.

Castiel didn't answer. His mind was already a turmoil of emotions that he wasn't prepared to handle. Dean's scent was permeating his senses. Leather, gun oil and the subtle scent of whiskey that seemed to cling to Dean even when the man wasn't drinking. “Sam wants you whole, Dean.”

“And you? What is it that you want, Cas?”

“What I want doesn't matter, Dean.” Castiel replied softly.

Reaching over, Dean raised Castiel's chin with his fingers, “fuck that, Cas. It matters to me.” The rough pad of his thumb traced Castiel's jawline. “Tell me what it is that you want.” It was taking everything that Castiel had not to turn his face towards the thumb that traced his jawline. His heart thundering in his chest. His grace alight with the touch of the one he had lost himself to so long ago. “Cas, what is it you want? Tell me.” Dean pressed and Castiel answered.

Castiel dove forwards and slammed his mouth onto Dean's, his teeth nibbling hard at the demon's lower lip. His hands roamed over the shirted back of Dean Winchester. Mapping the planes of muscle beneath his fingertips. Feeling wherever he touched tingle with something he wasn't sure of. Dean growled. Reaching up he tangled his fingers in Castiel's eternally tousled hair. “Dean?” Castiel whispered, attempting for another one of those kisses though he was prevented in doing such by the fingers in his hair.

Dean tightened his grip, wrenching the angel's head backwards, “Who said you could take the lead here?” he asked. His teeth gracing the jugular vein, and Dean started to salivate. He could almost taste Castiel's pulse on his tongue.

Castiel's eyes narrowed, “I was not aware I needed permission, Dean.”

Dean pulled back just enough so that Castiel could see the expression on his features. His green eyes were narrowed. He looked at Castiel as though he were prey. “You do today.” Dean hissed, before he swirled his tongue against the earlobe that dangled temptingly before him. Dean freed one of his hands and slid it over Castiel's trench coat and slid it off his shoulders, only to tangle it around his elbows preventing the angel from reaching for him again.

Castiel's breathing became erratic with that hiss in his ear. With a shudder that went through his entire form, the angel tilted his head to the side for more. When he felt the fabric bunch around his elbows, he struggled for a moment and looked at Dean who was still nibbling on his earlobe like a chew toy. “Dean...” Castiel spoke, the sound leaving his lips in a breathless whimper.

A feral grin that appeared on Dean's lips, the way those green eyes glittered made Castiel shiver in anticipation. Castiel found Dean studying him intently, “Do you even know what it is that you do to me?” Castiel shook his head, blue eyes full of desire. “You know, I've always had a soft spot for you. Even though your brothers and sisters are dicks.”

“You didn't think that way about Anna.” Castiel countered as he wrenched himself away from Dean for a moment in time. Taking off the coat and draping it over the back of a nearby chair.

“She wasn't an angel then.” Dean remarked remembering the incident.

. . . _Sam and Dean were standing in the barn, Anna was close by watching as Dean lifted a silver flask to his lips and took a healthy swallow. “Little early for that, isn't it?” Anna asked as she looked over at Dean concerned._

_“It's 2 am somewhere.”_

_“You okay?”_

_Dean shrugged a shoulder, “Yeah, of course.” The twin doors of the barn blasted open, sending wooden shrapnel in every direction. Castiel in his traditional suit and trench coat strode in behind Uriel, another angel. Castiel looked as though he was not comfortable with this. Uriel, well he just looked determined._

_“Hello, Anna. It is good to see you.” Castiel spoke, only to be interrupted by Sam._

_“How? How did you find us?” he asked. Stepping in front of Anna to shield her from the sight of the two angels. “Dean?” Sam asked, glancing over at Dean who was looking very guilty._

_“I'm sorry.” Dean said to Anna._

_“Why? Why the fuck would you do this, Dean?!” Sam demanded._

_“Because,” it was the voice of Anna who spoke. Her soft tones making Sam's anger dissipate quickly, “they gave him a choice. They either kill me...or kill you. I know how their minds work.” She faced Dean and cupped his face in her hand. Leaning up on her tip toes and kissing him with tenderness. “You did the best you could. I forgive you.” She whispered taking a step back away from him._

_Dean took that very moment to glance at Castiel who was standing there with a strange look on his face. He looked confused and there was something resonating in those blue eyes that tugged at Dean but for the life of him, he could not figure out what the expression was on Castiel's face_ . . .

Castiel swallowed. He also remembered the incident very well. He would never admit it to Dean. He had been jealous of Anna, and Lisa. Mainly Lisa for Dean was with her the longest as a promise to Sam. “Dean, I came to see if I could convince you to find a way to return to the way you once were.”

Dean scoffed, “You mean return to being the Righteous Man? the Good Son? Yeah, I'm done with that shit. I like the new me, Cas. I was weak before. I'm better now. Faster. Stronger.” Dean started but was not prepared for the fact that Castiel had crossed the room in a backlash of wind from his wings and struck him across the jaw. Dean fell to the carpeted floor and glared up at Castiel, his eyes going obsidian. “What the FUCK Cas?!” he demanded.

“Everything I have ever done, Dean. I have done for you. I rebelled for you. Gave up everything for you and I...”

“What? You were doing what you thought was right. That doesn't explain why you sucker punched me.”

Castiel snorted, “What was right? I didn't do it because it was right, Dean. I did it for you, it has always been for you. I tried, God knows I tried to get Sam out of the cage because the thought of you spending the rest of your life on Earth without your brother, broke my heart. And now. It’s just. I'm not the same angel I was. I don't even know who I am anymore.”

Dean jerked back in order to process the information because it was more than a little shocking to hear Castiel speak so much. “I know who you are, Cas.” Dean whispered, cupping the side of Castiel's face in his hand. “Do you want me to tell you what kind of angel I think you are, Cas?”

Castiel shook his head. He didn't want to hear the words that were going to spill from Dean's lips. He already knew what he was. An angel without purpose. His priority was to protect the Righteous Man and he had failed in that miserably time and time again. The tears that were welling in his blue eyes were threatening to spill, a lone drop slipped out of his eye and traced a wet track down his slightly stubbly cheek, “Yes, Dean. I want to know.”

Dean lifted his chin, catching Castiel's gaze. “I'll tell you exactly what you are, Castiel,” Castiel groaned deeply. His full name spilling off Dean's lips was one of the few times he had ever spoken it. Dean's head slowly lowered, inch by inch he drew closer. For a long moment, Dean drew in Castiel's scent. It was spicy, with a hint of honey and sandalwood. It was more than he could bear. “You. Are. Mine.” he quipped, taking Castiel's lips. The kiss was harsh, demanding, and it showed no mercy. Capturing Castiel's lower lip he bit down hard splitting the already chapped skin til it bled. Thrusting his tongue past those lips, Dean deepened the kiss. He tasted his angel, laying claim to what was his. Wrapping one arm around Castiel. He pulled the angel tight against him, pinning the smaller body to his own.

Castiel barely allowed himself to breathe while Dean's lips descended. Dean wasn't coaxing, he was downright demanding that he submit and Castiel gave it with a whimper. When his lip split from the power in Dean's kiss, Castiel moaned. Heat permeated his entire being and heaven help him he wanted more. Castiel stumbled into Dean's body while he was pulled in tight, pressing himself against the hard planes of the Hunter's lithe form that was so much stronger now than it had been.

Dean could sense the submission in the angel that was ensconced in his arms. With a growl Dean pulled his hands back only to grip the material of the cotton shirt that Castiel was wearing and rip it asunder baring the angel's chest to his emerald gaze. Dean broke the kiss that they shared, trailing wet kisses down the side of Castiel's throat until he reached the juncture where it met his shoulder and it was there that he sank his teeth in, leaving an imprint in his wake.

Castiel gasped. The shirt ripped from his body, leaving him bare from the waist up. His body convulsed with the pleasure. It skittered across his nerve endings like a wildfire. But it was when Dean bit him that Castiel went wild, he let out a hiss of pleasure and let his fingers dig into Dean's back, drawing lines against the material of Dean's t-shirt. The moan that left Dean's mouth was intoxicating. He drew his teeth from the soft skin of Castiel's throat. “Now, that was naughty.” Dean said.

“Naughty? You liked it.” Castiel intoned, his voice gruff.

Dean's chuckle was dark and low, “perhaps I did.” He purred as he maneuvered Castiel to the bed and they tumbled onto it. Wasting no time, Dean grasped both of Castiel's wrists pinning them over his head, “now, I have you right where I want you.”

Castiel's eyes flashed with desire pinned to the mattress beneath Dean's body. The mark on his neck was throbbing from Dean's bite but it only added to the feelings that were swirling within him. “Dean,” Castiel started to say, but Dean cut him off with a finger against his lips.

“Beneath me,” Dean's voice was almost as deep as Castiel's having dropped an octave with his lust. “Writhing,” he continued, pressing a kiss at the base of Castiel's ear, “begging...” he intoned, his free hand sliding over Castiel's chest to the front of the denim where a healthy bulge was awaiting his attention. All Dean did however was press the heel of his hand against the length he could feel.

Castiel heard Dean's voice, it had dropped and he inhaled sharply making a soft rasping noise. When Dean's hand came across his cock confined by the denim, Castiel lifted his hips unconsciously seeking more. Blue eyes fluttered closed at the kiss to the base of his ear which made him shiver. “Haven't begged...”

Dean pulled back far enough to stare into Castiel's eyes, “oh, but you will.” he crooned leaning down to flick his tongue over Castiel's lip. His strong hand stroked the length beneath the denim and gave the flesh a squeeze. It was firm but not punishing. “But you have to ask for what it is that you want.”

Castiel squirmed under the touch of Dean's hands. He wanted so badly to touch the hunter and he attempted to wrest his hands free from Dean's iron grip. “Will you give me what I ask for?”

“That depends on how nicely you ask, Cas.” Dean responded with a smirk. He released Castiel's hands, “however, if you touch me. I will not give you what it is that you want. This is a lesson Cas, in trust.” Dean finished. Sliding down the angel's torso, his tongue created a wet path to one of the dusky nipples and nibbled on it before soothing the sting with gentle swipes.

Castiel pulled a face at those words, he was used to breaking orders. God knows, Heaven had enough of those and he had defied each one. He longed to run his hands over Dean's body, to see if the knowledge he had bore fruit. The tongue, the sensual glide of it left a slick path across his skin. Castiel arched his back thrusting his body against Dean's wanton mouth.

Dean smiled wickedly, laving the wounded nipple with the softness of his tongue. He groaned at the taste of the angel beneath him. Castiel. The name rolled through Dean's mind like thunder, and it matched the frantic beat of his heart. Slowly, Dean's right hand slid over Castiel's body down to his jeans. He undid the button and the sound of the zipper being lowered was loud in the room. “Cas, damn, you're gorgeous.”

Castiel blushed, the color tinting his entire body with the words that Dean said. He had wanted to hear them for so long. “Dean...” Castiel hissed between clenched teeth. He started to move his hands to Dean's head wanting to touch him, but stopped himself barely.

The demon wrestled the denim around Castiel's thighs, “Oh, you want to move don't you? It is driving you mad that you can't.” he spoke, leaning down and laving Castiel's hipbones with the tip of his tongue. “You have to ask, Cas.” He huskily intoned, pursing his lips and blowing over the head of Castiel's cock which was rock hard, a bead of wetness glistening at the tip.

Castiel's eyes were closed and he squirmed on the bedding, the breath over the head of his cock making it twitch. “Dean, I...I don't know what to ask for.” he whispered. His breathing was ragged and it caused his chest to rise and fall quickly.

“Poor angel.” Dean whispered, as he bit down on the hipbone closest to his mouth.

A deep groan left Castiel's mouth at the bite. The sharp pain only adding to his excitement, “Please...Dean...Please...” he cried out in a strangled tone. He wasn't sure what he was asking for but he needed and wanted more of whatever Dean had to give him.

The purr that left Dean's lips was more like a great cat than human. He flicked his tongue over the tip of Castiel's cock, and groaned at the taste. He slid his mouth all the way down to the root, using his demonic powers to not gag. He hummed around the flesh in his throat. Castiel choked, his eyes rolling beneath the lids and a deep groan left his lips. Dean popped Castiel's cock out of his mouth with a lewd slurping sound and licked his lips, “Damned tasty.” 

Castiel hissed in pleasure as Dean swallowed his cock and he lost himself to sensation. He growled with frustration when Dean left his groin, but watched with full blown need and hunger in his eyes while Dean moved to the foot of the bed. Castiel could only watch as Dean stripped him out of his boots, socks and pants, leaving him naked on the scratchy blanket. “Dean...” he whispered. He then watched Dean pull the t-shirt over his own head. The slow exposure of Dean's skin was intoxicating and drove Castiel mad with lust. His eyes widening, he watched Dean undress, licked his lips without realizing it, cerulean orbs sliding down to the hard cock that jutted out from Dean's groin.

Dean grinned. “See something you want, Cas?” He inquired.

“Dean...I...I want to feel you.” he murmured softly. If Dean hadn't been a demon, he wouldn't have heard Castiel's quiet comment.

Dean's eyes turned pitch black, “are you begging me, Cas?” came the question as he stalked back to the bed like a predator about to eat his prey and he was going to feast . . . eventually. Castiel nodded as he couldn't find his voice to speak, just the way his voice was pitched, low and growling, Dean pressed on, “oh, I'm going to fuck you.” he whispered, nibbling on the shell of Castiel's ear, “and you are at my mercy.” he finished, gripping Castiel's hair and pulling him upright.

Castiel grunted feeling his hair was yanked on pulling him to his knees on the bed. Even while he got to them, Dean spun him around and forced his knees wider. Dean was nipping his way down Castiel's spine and Castiel was so high in lust and desire, he no longer seemed to care what Dean would do to him. His back arched as Dean nibbled his way down his spine, his entire body writhing. “Dean...please.” His voice was dripping with need.

With a wicked grin, Dean gripped Castiel's hips holding them steady, even while the angel's hips moved frantically as though searching for something. “Cas, I don't have...” But it appeared that Castiel didn't care at that moment in time. He thrust his hips backwards, the head of Dean's cock nudging against him. Dean slammed himself home, leaning over Castiel's back, he bit the side of that throat and spoke, “Mine.”

Castiel groaned as he felt Dean force open that tight ring of muscle, his blue eyes widening. A yelp leaving his throat. His breath was coming in a fast pant, and threw his head back as Dean bit the side of his throat. “Yours...” Castiel whispered, making soft noises while rotating his hips trying to entice Dean to move.

Dean hissed trying to adjust to the fact that Castiel was tight and hot around his cock. He stroked Castiel's sides with his fingertips even while he draped himself over the back of the angel beneath him. Castiel groaned as Dean's cock filled him to the breaking point. The feel of the hunter turned demon draped over his back, gave him the sensation that Dean could be deeper than he already was. Dean rotated his hips hard, making his cock twitch. Castiel inhaled sharply. That twitching cock sent a pulse of pleasure right through him. “Cas...” Dean groaned, his hands setting on Castiel's lithe hips and slowly drew himself backwards.

As he felt Dean slowly pulling backwards, Castiel whined and strained to push his hips back even while Dean held them fast. “Dean,” came the strained whisper from the angel in his arms.

“Oh no, this is at my pace, not yours.” Dean responded. He made a slow thrust inwards until he bottomed out and rolled his hips. His left hand stayed on Castiel's hip holding him steady while his right hand slid up and pinched Castiel's nipple giving it a twist. Castiel cried out at the twist to his overly sensitive nipple, arching his back and inadvertently pulling Dean deeper into his body. “Fuck.” Dean growled, his hips starting to move faster and harder.

Castiel grunted in response to Dean picking up the pace, his fingers tightening in the sheets beneath them both. The sensation as Dean took him cascading into a spiral of pleasure and pain, a zone that Castiel had never known existed until this moment in time. “Then quicken the pace!” Castiel demanded, turning his head to stare with luminous blue eyes at Dean whose face was scrunched in concentration as though he were holding on to the scraps of his control.

When those blue eyes met green, Dean slowed the pace of his thrusts. He was going to teach the angel who was in control here. He drew his hips back until only the head of his cock was embedded in Castiel then slammed forwards with a powerful thrust. “Is this what you wanted?” Dean purred, sliding one hand up Castiel's spine and tracing some ridges that were along his shoulder blades with his fingertips. In response, Castiel shuddered and writhed beneath Dean. “Me. Deep inside you. Fucking you. Branding you as mine. Tell me Cas. Tell me this is what you wanted.” Dean continued both hands rubbing at those ridges, knowing instinctively what they were but what he didn't know was how sensitive the skin was.

Castiel at that moment can't seem to find his voice to answer. Dean had inadvertently found the nubs where his wings if they were visible on this particular plane would emerge from. His mind was awash with deep fired lust, and every touch of Dean's fingertips heightened the sensation sending shivers down his spine. He found it in himself to nod, “yes.” Dean grinned though he knew that Castiel couldn't see it. He pulled all the way out and flipped Castiel over onto his back on the bedding. Though he was content for the moment to stare down at the angel spread over the bed. Flushed and looking rather wanton, Castiel whimpered at the loss and stared up at Dean. “Wha....why did...”

Slowly, methodically, Dean crawled up the bed and hovered over Castiel. He was close enough to touch. To kiss. It was a test to see if Castiel remembered what he had said at the beginning of their tryst. Dean stopped moving completely, his lips hovering over Castiel's a hair's breadth away. “Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you.”

Cas could inhale Dean's scent it was so close, and his hands came up only to lower them again as he recalled what Dean had said. It was torture though, to be this close and not caress the flesh that hovered above him. “I need you inside me, Dean...please.” the last word was almost a keen as it left Castiel's lips, his body arching into that of his lover, the skin on skin contact setting a fire inside him that longed to be quenched.

Dean responded by laying atop Castiel, rubbing against the lithe form of the angel beneath him giving him the friction he was desperately craving. “As you wish.” came the purr from the hunter's lips as he spread Castiel's legs wide and thrust home with one powerful movement of his hips. Castiel let out a breathless cry as his voice was suddenly gone with the thrust of Dean's body. Leaning down, Dean captured Castiel's mouth, his tongue plundering. He took what he wanted, leaving Castiel no quarter. Castiel wasted no time and captured Dean's tongue, dueling with it, a deep moan of desire reverberating. Dean was corrupting the body beneath his own, fucking his angel with slow hard thrusts, his hand sliding up to cup the back of Castiel's messy black hair and pull him tighter against his mouth as though he were trying to devour it and find the angel's soul.

The sounds Castiel was making were driving Dean deeper into the abyss of the desire to claim what was rightfully his. The way Castiel was groaning, the sound reverberating in the room they were ensconced within. Castiel moved his hands, dragging his short blunt nails along Dean's spine. Wrenching his mouth away. Dean snarled and thrust harder than before, sending Castiel up the bed with the power that was behind it. “What. Did. I. Tell. You?!” Dean demanded as he narrowed that green gaze, “I should punish you,” he whispered huskily into Castiel's ear. He took the wrists in one of his own and pinned them over the angel's head. “I could stop fucking you...”

Castiel was panting, on the verge of his orgasm. His eyes widened, he had indeed broken the rules. As his hands were pinned above his head, Castiel looked at Dean and the fire that resided in that emerald gaze was one he truly longed to walk into, immolating himself in its flames and heaven be damned. “I'm sorry, Dean.”

Dean rolled his hips in a slow, lazy thrust, “sorry for what?” he inquired, placing soft kisses along the underside of Castiel's jaw.

“For disobeying your rule.” Castiel groaned through clenched teeth, attempting to push himself against Dean's hips to meet the thrusts and failing.

“Beg me.” Dean spoke with a slam of his hips. Gasping for breath, Castiel could barely open his eyes as he saw stars. “Do you want to touch me, Castiel? Run your fingers down my back, pull me further and deeper into your body?” He inquired. He kept his cock embedded to the hilt within the angel, not moving a muscle though it was difficult not to do so.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, “fuck me, I...I beg you.” The profanity coming off his angel's tongue set a fire within Dean, and without warning he picked up the pace, his thrusts slamming into Castiel. Releasing the hold he had on those wrists, Dean kissed Castiel once more. One strong hand sliding down, capturing the cock that was trapped between their straining bodies. Instantly, Castiel's hands came up and were on Dean's back, dragging his nails against the flesh while kissing Dean hard in response. Breaking the kiss, Castiel was panting, his breath coming in quick shaky jerks. “Dean...I...” his voice trailed off, not knowing what was happening to his body. This was so different than what he experienced with April. The feelings were more like a raging inferno, this is what he was missing with her. Passion. Desire. Lust. It was all there and now Castiel had a taste for it.

Dean was struggling to keep some semblance of control, “come for me, I want to see it, I want to watch you hit your peak.” he spoke. The hunter was rapidly losing his rhythm, also on the verge of orgasm. The angel's breath caught, soft sounds leaving his throat. It was apparent that Castiel was struggling, and Dean was more than happy to help him. “Come for me. NOW CASTIEL!” Dean practically shouted.

Castiel needed no other prompting, his cock twitching in Dean's first. While the first shots of his come erupted from his balls, lights in the hotel room flickered before shattering into glittering shards, his hand came up and fit to where the brand of his hand had been so long ago. He poured his feelings for Dean into that one touch, a deep guttural groan leaving his lips until it became a roar of satisfaction. “Dean!”

Dean shuddered as Castiel tightened around his cock. The orgasm making the channel ripple and it was enough to make him jerk his hips a few times. He sped up having lost his control and groaned with pleasure collapsing against Castiel's sweaty form with his own, panting into the side of the angel's throat. “Cas,” Dean softly spoke. He realized that what Castiel had done via his touch was tell him he loved him. Dean loved the angel in his arms if it was possible for a demon to feel an emotion such as love. Cain loved his wife, so maybe there was hope for him after all.

Castiel was about to say something when his body started to contract as though he were having a seizure. His body began to glow a soft shade of blue that grew in intensity making Dean roll off the bed while Castiel thrashed about. Dean's face contorted with worry, especially when Castiel's mouth opened in a silent scream but by the time the hunter had the courage to approach Castiel's form the angel was gone in a bright flash of blue and white light. “Sonuvabitch!”

 

~*~


	13. Manhattan, Kansas (Sam's Room)

Sam woke up in the hotel room that Dean had placed him in alone. His first instinct was to look at the other bed but then realized that there was only one. _What good am I to Dean now?_ He thought to himself, he ran his hands through his long hair and sat up, swinging his legs over to the side before standing. Sam knew that this was not going to end well. Dean was a demon and now immortal unless someone killed him . . . again. But maybe there was a silver lining in this darkening cloud. He could go back to school, finish his degree. Sam shook his head, his place was whether he liked it or not with his brother.

It had been Dean who raised him, after their mother had died. Their father had been both too sick with grief and drunk to be any kind of good role model. And he was frequently gone, leaving Dean to pick up the slack. Sam remembered even as a child being held all night and told that he was safe and that nothing was going to hurt him, instinctively he knew it was Dean who had done this. Dean who had sacrificed sleep in order to keep his brother from having nightmares. Running a hand through his hair, Sam moved to the window and stared out of the pane at the night sky. The Impala sat nearby, underneath a street lamp that gave the vehicle a halo like effect. Which made Sam think of home.

He had tried when he had gone off to Stanford. Tried to make himself a home, be normal and not a hunter but it was in his blood. It had always been nice to see Dean when he popped in from a hunt that was close by. Dean had never brought their father with him as that would have been a disaster. Then he realized that after Jessica had died in the manner she had, home had become with Dean wherever they ended up. Dean had always been the sacrificing one. Whether it had been French fries at a diner, or selling his soul . . . Sam took a deep breath and remembered.

. . . _Dean and Sam were leaning on the Impala, crickets chirping in the darkness. Dean still had blood on his forehead from where he had struck one of the tombstones. “Dean, did I die?” Sam had asked, watching as his brother looked away, “did you sell your soul for me, like dad did for you?”_

_“Oh, come on! No!” Dean snapped, but it wasn't with his usual gruffness._

_Sam stared at his brother, “Tell me the truth.” Dean sniffed a bit and refused to meet Sam's eyes, “Dean, tell me the truth.”_

_“Sam...” Dean started then shook his head chuckling._

_He knew in that one moment of time, that split second when Dean wiped his mouth and looked down at the ground and his refusal to answer the question that he had in fact sold his soul. Swallowing heavily, he looked at Dean, “how long did you get?”_

_Dean glanced up and Sam could see that those green eyes were glassy as though Dean were struggling not to cry, “One year. I got one year.”_

_“You shouldn't have done that. How could you do that?!”_

_“Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that! I had to! I had to look out for you. That's my job.”_

_Sam scowled, “and what do you think my job is?”_

_Dean blinked. He honest to god blinked. “What?”_

_“You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's **NOTHING** I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes, I'm gonna get you out of this. Guess I gotta save your ass for a change.”_

_“Yeah.” Dean said with a smirk. “So...” The duo walk to the Impala's trunk and open it up as Dean tossed in the Colt. “Let's get to work.” he said slamming the trunk_ . . .

Sam walked to his bag and pulled out his laptop, opening it to look up some information on demons in general and what powers they were supposedly supposed to have. He remembered watching Dean smite one of the demons the way Castiel did, but the coloring was all different and he was unsure what the consequences were. As he was typing he heard Dean cursing next door. Slamming his laptop closed, Sam jumped up and ran to Dean's door pounding on it with his fist. “Dean?!”

The door opened and Dean was standing there, shirtless with a pair of jeans pulled up but not buttoned. “What?”

“You okay?”

“NO! Fucking Cas...”

“Castiel was here?” Sam asked as he shouldered past his brother and into the motel room. He glanced around, spying the rumpled bed-covers which indicated that Dean had been sleeping. “What happened?” he inquired but then the smell hit him. _Oh...well that's different. And about time._ Sam thought to himself as he looked at Dean who was shrugging into a well-worn AC/DC shirt.

“He fucking up and vanished, right after...you know what? Never mind.” Dean grumbled, “Sorry if I woke ya, Sammy.”

“No, I was awake. Was looking something up online.” Sam replied as he sat down on one of the chairs and looked at his brother, “so, you and Cas...” his voice trailed off.

Dean turned and looked at his brother, “me and Cas, what?”

Sam just smiled, “Nevermind, Dean.”

 

~*~


	14. The Council Chambers, Heaven

The Main Council Chambers, Heaven

 

Heaven was trembling. Castiel landed in the center of the meeting hall where they were gathered. His wings were unfurled, the feathers extended to their limits. But it was the rage that was almost visible against his skin that made them all take pause. “Castiel?”

Castiel was kneeling in genuflection. His left knee rested on the mosaic tiles, his right one bent. Both hands which were formed into fists rested on the tiles. Castiel's knuckles were grinding the small octagonal tiles, turning them to dust under the force of his ire. His tousled dark head rose, but it was the look in those deep blue pools, the small arcs of what appeared to be lightning in his irises that made the angels gathered back up several steps. “Hannah.” Castiel finally spoke, his voice husky, “why have you summoned me?”

“You must destroy Dean Winchester.”

Castiel looked up at Hannah, the others apparently were using Hannah of their spokesperson. “Destroy...Dean is my charge.” he stressed.

“He is a demon, Castiel.” Hannah spoke. She looked over at the others, “and we agreed that since you are the Winchester's guardian, you should be the one to kill the demon.”

“The demon has a name, Hannah.” he paused.

“This all started Castiel when you refused to punish him for his crime of killing the reaper.” Hannah continued, interrupting whatever it was that Castiel was going to say, “You protected him, and I'm beginning to wonder why you are doing so. He's a demon.”

“He wasn't then.” He countered, trying to make her see reason. He knew that he could never kill Dean. He loved him too much to lose him now. Even Naomi who had brainwashed him to the point where he was managing to slaughter clones of Dean until he felt nothing, when it came down to it, Dean had broken through to him with a simple, 'I need you, Cas.' That had been it for Castiel, the angel who had rebelled for a mere mortal, for free will, for love . . . for a hunter named Dean.

“Leave us.” Hannah commanded and the other angels shuffled out of the chamber leaving the two of them alone. It was then that she turned her dark brown head to stare at Castiel. “You love him,” she held up her hand, “Don't deny it, Castiel. You've been lost to us for so long, it’s time to remember who you are and what you really do.”

“I won't kill Dean.”

Hannah's hand came up lightning fast, her palm connecting with his cheek and sending his head snapping to the side. “He's a DEMON!”

“I don't care.”

“He'll never love you, Castiel. He will NEVER be yours. He belongs in Hell. You NEVER should have pulled him out of Perdition.”

“I had my orders.”

“Orders?” her voice grew cold, “since when do you obey orders...” Castiel didn't respond, and even looked away, “oh, I see, you only follow the orders of the demon now. The demon we are going to kill with, or without you.”

“Don't.”

“Don't what? Do what you can't? Do what you won't?!”

“Hannah, he's my charge. I can't kill him.”

“He's a demon, and worthless.” Hannah sneered, not knowing what she was about to unleash.

With a roar, Castiel came up and slammed into her. Propelling her against the nearest pillar which cracked under the force of the impact. An angel blade manifested in Castiel's hand, before he placed it against the tender underside of Hannah's throat. “Do NOT speak of my charge in such a manner...” he growled, even as the room seemed to darken with the underlying rage in his voice. Castiel's eyes were narrowing, while pressing the blade harder against her cream colored skin.

Hannah swallowed, her hands coming up to grip Castiel's arm trying to pull it away. Castiel was not about to let her go that easily. Hannah was shocked at this suddenly demonic version of Castiel she thought she knew him. She had never had a charge but in looking in those blue eyes that were suddenly fired up with something she could not name. Hannah knew that she would have had the same reaction if someone they cared for was besmirched in such a fashion. “I'm sorry, Castiel.” She whispered, feeling as Castiel slowly released his hold on her. Rubbing her throat, Hannah warily watched him move across the room.

“Was that all you wanted, Hannah?” Castiel inquired as he was about to leave and return to Dean.

He never saw the cold gaze that zeroed in on him. However, he did feel the thick end of an angel blade connecting with the back of his skull. As he slumped to the tiled floor in a heap of limbs and fabric, unconsciousness creeping in on him he heard her say, “No, Castiel that was not all.”

 

~*~


	15. Lebanon, Kansas

Lebanon, Kansas

 

They had returned to the bunker a day or so ago, Castiel was still missing in action and Dean wasn't taking it well even if he wouldn't admit it. Currently, the demon in residence was locked in his room listening to old records and not just any old records. _Ballads_. Sam had tried coaxing Dean to eat even though he truly didn't need to anymore. Sleeping, well Sam wasn't even going to go there. This thing between Dean and Castiel had clearly come to a head. It made the younger of the Winchester's wonder, but then he remembered something that Castiel had said.

. . . _They had been sitting in a motel room looking over a case where the Plagues of Egypt were being invoked. Dean was retrieving a beer from the fridge, “we should call Cas.” he said, Sam having said that angels were probably involved. Dean crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the queen sized bed, taking a swallow of the amber liquid from the bottle in his hand._

_Sam raised his eyebrows, “you're kidding right? I tried that, when I got topside. Son of a bitch won't answer the phone.” He said running a hand through his shoulder length hair. His eyes however drifted between his brother and the laptop that was in front of him._

_“Well,” Dean shrugged, “let’s give it a shot.” Sam watched Dean close his eyes, “now I lay me down to sleep, I pray to Castiel to get his feathery ass down here...”_

_“You're an idiot.” Sam quipped from where he was twisted in his seat to watch his brother with a wary look in his eyes._

_Opening his eyes Dean scowled, “stay positive!”_

_“Oh,” Sam chuckled, “I am positive.”_

_Dean closed his eyes again, flipping Sam the finger, “C'mon Cas, don't be a dick. Got ourselves a plague like situation down here, do you...do you copy?” Opening his eyes he looked around not hearing the familiar whooshing sound of wings that usually accompanied Castiel's arrival._

_Sam was leaning back in the chair now, a smirk on his lips as he was right and Castiel was ignoring their calls, “like I said...” he was so ready to tell Dean, 'I told you so,', “The son of a bitch doesn't answer...” there was a soft sound of rustling wings. Dean's gaze was locked on a space behind his brother and Sam even looked half panicked, “he's right behind me, isn't he?” Sam twisted further to glance at Castiel._

_“Hello.”_

_“Hello?!”_

_“Yes...” Castiel responded._

_His voice deepened as he imitated Castiel, “Hello.” Sam paused a moment and threw up his hands in annoyance, “hello?!”_

_Castiel looked very confused, “uh, that is still the term?”_

_Sam's ire was rising, “I spent all that time trying to get through to you. Dean calls once and now it’s,” he paused a moment reverting to his Cas voice, “hello!”_

_Castiel crossed the room headed towards, “yes.”_

_Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “So what, you like him better or something?”_

_Castiel turned and looked at Sam, “well we do share a more profound bond . . .”_

Sam sighed and looked at his laptop where he was attempting to find a hunt, his fingers flying over the keys while scanning headlines from almost every single major newspaper in the continental US. Something caught his eye and he paused in his perusal. The article was about several dead bodies that showed up in certain times every few years. “Hey Dean?” Sam called to his brother who was in the kitchen as the sound of clattering pots and pans reached his ears.

“What?” Dean shouted back, putting the pans and heading back to where he left his brother in the main library, poring over his laptop keys. Something Dean had no desire to do, ever. “What'd you find? Hunt?”

“Yeah, could be. It’s a string of unsolved murders. National Parks from East to West.”

“So what seems to be the thing that goes bump in the night?”

“I'm not sure, according to these autopsy reports they think it may be some sort of animal, but sounds supernatural to me.”

“So, if they continue the pattern?”

“Redwood National Park.”

Dean nodded, and grinned. “Let's go.” He said. Sooner rather than later, the duo were packed in the Impala and on the road again. “You know, if I haven't said it before, I'm saying it now. I'm proud of you Sammy, and I'm glad you're my brother.”

Sam looked over at Dean who was suddenly talking about emotions. “You're my brother, and I'm really happy for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You and Cas.”

Dean's fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his eyes narrowing slightly, “what about me and Cas?”

“Dean, I know you have feelings for Cas.”

“What?” Dean exclaimed, “For fucks sake, Sammy. Cas is family.”

“Yeah, but Dean . . .”

“Drop it. There is no me and Cas.” Dean remarked, and Sam simply nodded returning to his typing on the keyboard. Dean's thoughts turned inward, he did love Castiel. But he wasn't ready to admit to anyone else but himself and even then it was internal, not external. The worst part was, he was terrified to get closer to Castiel. _I just let down the people I love. God knows I've done it to Sam too many times. I can't do that to Cas. He's just . . . he's too damned important to me to fail him._ With a sigh, Dean turned onto the darkened road that boasted the sign of being Route 189. It was one of those back roads that your parents always told you not to drive for fear of ax murderers and people holding chainsaws, making suits out of your skin. But then again this was Dean and Sam Winchester and they lived for shit like that.

 

~*~


	16. Rte. 189

Rte. 189

 

He was falling. Hurtling towards the Earth like a falling star. His wings were ablaze, the dark gray feathers burning away with the heat. They had once been pristine white, ever since he was a cherub. His time in Hell while searching for Dean Winchester turned them gray because of all the evil that surrounded him. When he showed Dean his wings in the barn, they were simply the shadows, for no mortal man could see the true image of an angel without their eyes burning from their sockets. Pamela Barnes, a psychic had been a prime example of that, and to this day, Dean and Sam would shut their eyes when he used his powers to smite a demon. Castiel could see Heaven as it drew further and further away, the bright shine of it eluding him but it wasn't the same as when he fell and was human. He was still who he was. An Angel. A Seraph. He was still Castiel.

The asphalt was hard as he rolled to a landing. His coat splotched red with blood, his face marred by bruises that would fade using his grace. Castiel lay there stunned in the darkness, not knowing where he was but he knew what it was that he had to do. He had to find Dean Winchester. He had to protect him. Twin beams of bright light cut through the darkness, illuminating the angel who held up a hand in a feeble attempt to shield his eyes. The Impala jack-knifed as Dean struggled to control the vehicle and not hit Castiel. The brakes squealed, as the car came to a bone jarring full stop in the center of the road. Castiel looked at the brothers while they exited the vehicle, his eyes then rolling into the back of his head as he passed out.

Dean and Sam exchanged glances. “We can't leave him here, Dean.” He then tilted his head and quirked a brow. Dean had walked to the trunk and opened it up. Rummaging around for a few moments, Sam finally had to ask, “Dean, what are you looking for?”

“Fuck, don't we have any holy oil left?!”

“Holy oil? Dean what are you thinking, this is Cas!”

“Yeah, and I want some fucking answers.” Dean replied, finding the ancient looking ceramic jug that held the holy oil aloft. He put the holy oil down on the floor of the backseat and with Sam's help, hoisted the unconscious Castiel up and into the backseat of the Impala. Dean returned to the driver's seat, Sam sitting shotgun.

“I don't understand, Dean. What answers do you possibly need out of Cas?”

“Maybe why he fucking up and vanished, right after . . .” Dean let his voice trail off and ran a single hand through his military short hairstyle. “Never mind. I just want to know where he fucking flit off to.”

“Then why the holy oil?” Sam asked. He was trying very valiantly to ignore the fact that Dean had nearly let slip that they had slept together, though Sam already knew this.

“So he can't fucking take off again.” Dean muttered. The road was quiet and there was no apparent turn off anywhere close by. Dean passed ramshackle buildings that had probably seen better days, but none of them were right for what he was going to ask of Castiel. A glance in the rear view mirror and green eyes focused on the unconscious angel. Castiel was still out, his lips slightly parted as his chest rose and fell beneath the navy jacket. But each time Dean looked away then returned to staring at the angel in the mirror, the bruises had faded just a little bit more. _Gotta find somewhere to do this_. Dean thought to himself. He was hard pressed to tear his gaze from the mirror but he did so.

A few more miles passed beneath the tires of the Impala and it was Sam who pointed out the small, seemingly abandoned building on the roadside. Slowing down, Dean turned the vehicle onto a gravel road. The light from the headlights fell upon what seemed like the ruin of an old church. The stones glistened beneath the light of the silvery moon, as Dean cut the engine. Crickets chirruped. An owl hooted occasionally. Sam and Dean got out of the Impala, Dean heading to the trunk to pull out a flashlight just to check the place out before they brought in Castiel. The interior of the church was dark, crumbling pillars and cobwebs everywhere. Dean swung the flashlight around, checking out every nook and cranny. “Dean?” Sam called from the doorway.

“Yeah, it’s clear.” Dean responded before he headed back out of the building to help Sam with Castiel. The duo dragged Castiel into the largest room and placed him on the floor. It was Sam who traced a circle of holy oil around the angel's slumped figure, “he all set?”

“Yup. You sure this is what you want to do?” Sam asked, backing up several steps and leaning on a nearby pillar his arms crossed against his muscular chest. The vessel of holy oil was hanging loosely from his fingertips.

Castiel let out a groan as he struggled to get to his feet. “Dean. Sam.” he said, glancing around as he tried to ascertain where he was. “What is it?” The sound of a match striking flint was loud and echoed in the chamber. Castiel was about to speak when he was suddenly surrounded by flames. Holy oil. He thought to himself. But why?

Dean stepped into the light. His face illuminated by the flames. Light and shadow playing there, chasing each other as he eyed Castiel. “Where'd you go, Cas?”

“What do you mean, Dean? I'm right here.”

“You know damned well what I mean. Before, you just up and fucking vanished. It looked like you were having a seizure...so, what the fuck man?” Castiel didn't answer. He couldn't tell Dean the truth about where he had been and what exactly had transpired in the time he was gone. “Cas, answer me.” When there was no response from the angel, Dean turned towards Sam. “Sam, give us a minute, will ya?” Sam didn't respond, knowing that this was a private moment between the two and left the chamber and headed back to the Impala. “You really won't tell me what happened, will you?”

“I can't, Dean.”

“Well then, Cas, I can't trust you to be around me then can I?” he inquired as he turned and slit his palm open with a knife. Painting a symbol on the wall, he placed his bloody hand over it and whispered something.

“You called?”

“Yeah, keep an eye on him will you?”

Castiel tried to see who Dean was speaking to but the person was buried in the shadows and could not be seen. The voice however was familiar, but Castiel couldn't place it. It wasn't Crowley, he had a very distinctive tone. “Dean.”

“Shut it, Cas. I can't trust you if you can't tell me what happened.” He headed out of the chamber, shouting for his brother. The familiar rumble of the Impala's engine echoed through the small chamber before fading into the distance.

“Castiel...” the voice purred and Castiel knew exactly who it was that was hidden in shadow. Someone he had not seen for years.

His eyes widened ever so slightly, her wings had been broken several times apparently and never allowed to truly heal. Wrapped in clean bandages, they were bent at unnatural angles. “Tiazairel.” her name was a whisper.

 

~*~


	17. An Abandoned Church, Somewhere on Rte. 189

An Abandoned Church

 

She smiled at him, “it is good to see you again, my brother.” She stalked around the ring of holy oil, her heels making clicking sounds on the stone. “The last time I saw you, you were fighting to save him.” Azai's wings flared behind her. “But even then, I knew...”

“Knew what?”

“That you loved him. It was obvious in the way you looked at him.”

“Shut up.” Castiel said.

“Oh, did I hit a nerve?” Azai taunted, her eyes never leaving him. “Even when you first saw Dean Winchester, I could feel that it was more than just...orders to get him out. You felt something for this human, this man that you pulled from Perdition.”

“He is my charge.”

“He's more than that, isn't he, Castiel? What is he Castiel? What is Dean to you? Truly.”

Castiel thought back to when he was healing Dean's body and soul in Heaven, under the guidance of Kitoel who had told him something he never dreamt was possible.

. . . _Cradling Dean to his chest, Castiel made his way to a temple that was set well apart from the others. It sat atop a rolling hill, with a sandstone path which led to the temple's door. Castiel toed off his sandals upon reaching the edge of the walk for it was a sacred place. The stones were warm beneath the angel's bare feet as he padded into the temple. The various archways were perpetually bathed in moonlight no matter where the sun was in the sky. He reached the main entrance and took a breath before stepping into the chamber headed for the sacred pool. The cerulean waters rippled at Castiel's approach, bubbling softly. “Castiel,” a voice spoke, as a figure ascended from the waters._

_“Kitoel,” Castiel responded, his voice tinged with reverence._

_She rose to stand on top of the waters, and walked towards him on her small feet. Kitoel had the appearance of a seven or eight year old girl but she was one of the oldest angels. Her wings cascaded down her back in a mass of fluffy gold feathers. Walking towards him the surface of the pool barely rippled with her steps. Kitoel's eyes were glowing white while she gazed unseeing at the body of Dean Winchester in his arms. Kneeling gracefully she placed her small hand on Dean's cheek, “his soul,” there was a pause, “is a bright, pure white light interlaced with...” her voice trailed off, only to turn her blind all-seeing gaze on Castiel._

_“Interlaced with what?”_

_“All will be revealed in time, Castiel.” Was her cryptic response before she returned to the depths of the pool._

_Castiel stepped into the pool then, kneeling in the waters. They lapped at his thighs, soaking his bloodstained leathers. He went ahead and began to lower Dean in the pool feet first. When Dean’s feet hit the water, he began to thrash. The waters turned an angry shade of red, bubbling furiously as Castiel grit his teeth and lowered him further while murmuring soft platitudes._

_While Dean began to sink further into the water, his body began to slowly disappear. Tendrils of light began to replace his limbs, the brilliance of it making Castiel close his eyes for a moment in time. However he never let go of the body in his arms. Placing his hand on Dean’s slender chest, he submerged him beneath the chaotic surface. Searing heat and light exploded outwards from where the body went under. Rising from his knees, Castiel waited, brushing his leathers free from the water droplets that clung to it._

_About five minutes had passed and the waters returned to that picturesque mirrored surface once more, slowly a white tendril broke the surface and started to rise. Castiel watched, his lips forming a smile as the orb that was Dean Winchester's soul emerged. The sphere was six inches across, bright and nearly pulsating with power. If Castiel had looked closer, he would have seen the blue swirls that were interlaced with the white were not dormant but writing in the whiteness, merging together. Castiel reached out and took the soul in his hands before he transferred it into a clear container. “Thank you, Kitoel.”_

_'You are welcome, Castiel. Remember one thing. Your destiny, is closer than you may think.' her voice echoed in his head. He left the chamber cradling Dean's soul_. . .

Castiel knew exactly what Dean was to him, but he was not about to tell Tiazairel that information. “He's my charge.”

Azai rolled her eyes as she studied the angel trapped in the circle of holy oil. His hands were at his sides clenched in loose fists but he was alert and almost looking as though he were spoiling for a fight. “He is more than that, Castiel. You never could lie to me.”

“Shut up.”

“What is he, Castiel? What is it about this one human...I know that you returned after two thousand years in heaven to Earth for this ONE man, what prompted it?”

Castiel had been on Earth before that, had even seen Dean and Sam's mother while she was still alive. Dean had been a small child at the time.

. . . _Castiel was observing the people of the town, but not interfering. He stood quietly outside a bakery, where a heavily pregnant woman was holding a young sandy haired boy's hand firmly in her own. The child in question was salivating at a display of freshly baked pies. “Dean,” she laughed, “you can have pie after you have your lunch.” She said to her son who was ogling the pie like it was the last thing he was ever going to eat. Castiel watched from outside where his young charge was pouting._

_“Please, Mommy?”_

_Mary Winchester shook her blond head, “Okay. We'll get a slice to take home and share.” she gave in, glancing down at her now beaming son. He was practically bouncing on his toes watching as the clerk boxed up a slice of apple pie and slid it over the counter. She paid for her purchases and took the box, “Okay, Dean. Time to go.”_

_“Can I has the pie now?”_

_“When we get home, Dean.” She said tucking the box in a shopping bag that held other purchases. Mary then had to swat at Dean's questing fingers, “no, you can't carry the bag. I know you, young man. You'll eat it before we even get in the car.” Dean pouted, his lower lip quivering. “Don't look at me like that, Dean. The answer's still no.” Together they left the bakery walking through the parking lot where she opened the back door of a black 1967 Chevy Impala and set Dean in his car seat, buckling him in. She put the shopping bag with the pie in it in the front seat before she paused. Slowly, she looked around, her eyes narrowing slightly. Mary saw nothing out of the ordinary on the street. The same people walking, going about their business. Shaking her head as though to clear it, she slid behind the wheel and started the engine. Mary Winchester then backed out of the parking space. Heading down the road towards her home, never realizing that she was indeed being watched._

_Castiel froze when her gaze had traveled in his direction. It wasn't possible for her to actually see him, as he was invisible, but she had sensed him. That much was clear. The calculated way she had scanned the area with her eyes...it was like a predator searching for prey. She had known that he was there. Castiel's azure eyes wandered in the direction that the car had driven off in, but he did not need to follow her_ . . .

He had always been Dean Winchester's guardian angel which Castiel extended to Sam. “You cannot ask this of me, Tiazairel.” He whispered, his thumb twitching while he eyed a pillar behind where she was standing.

She laughed, “it’s so obvious, Castiel. Even when he was ready to leave you here, the look of longing you sent him to take you with him was pathetic. He can never love you.”

His lips curled into a silent snarl, as he flicked his thumb and the pillar behind her crumbled. The stone cracked and fell onto her back. Her arms flailing for balance, Azai stumbled across the holy oil and into Castiel's arms. He held her close for a second, placing a palm against her forehead. “I don't need him to say the words, Tiazairel, I know what is in his heart.” Castiel said. He turned Azai around in his arms, lifting a foot to kick her knees out before shoving her face down over the fire. Azai writhed and screamed as the flames licked at her skin. Castiel stepped onto her back, crossing the flames.

She reached out feebly towards him. “Castiel, help me…you’re my brother...” she whispered, her fingertips twitching.

The angel in question paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder at her floundering on the floor. “No. Goodbye, my sister.” Castiel vanished then in a backwash of wings, leaving Azai alone.

Azai agonizingly slowly pulled herself to her feet and stared at the space where Castiel had stood. Her body hurt, the burns inflicted by the holy oil stung against the exposed skin of her forearms. She reflected back on what she had said. How she had taunted him to the point where she may have pushed him too far. Wrapping her arms around her slender waist, Azai closed her eyes and vanished from the interior of the building.

 

~*~


	18. Salt Lake City, Utah

Salt Lake City, Utah

 

They had arrived in Salt Lake City, Dean was out at one of the local bars. He was nursing his second beer and still cursing inwardly at Castiel who had refused to tell him what happened in Heaven. Something had happened to his Angel. That much had been clear, but what it had been, Dean had no idea. Dean left Sam back at the hotel as his younger sibling was not speaking to him due to his treatment of Castiel in the abandoned building. Dean wanted answers. Mainly why he had seized up after Dean had taken him. That alone brought a wicked smile to Dean's lips. The images of Castiel flushed, panting and absolutely wanton spread across the bed flashing in his mind. Polishing off his beer he set the bottle down on the slightly worn wood, sliding a couple of bills next to it, nodded to the bartender and headed for the door.

Two figures who had been in shadow were watching Dean Winchester for the past few hours rose and followed him out the door watching as he meandered his way down the street, presumably back to the hotel. “Dean Winchester.” one of the men called out and Dean stopped short, turning his head to glance at the two men.

“I know you?” He asked, his hand sliding towards the sidearm he kept at the small of his back. The familiar sight of the blades that suddenly seemed to appear in their hands made him growl, “Fuck. Don't you have something better to do?”

“What's better than ridding the world of one more demon?”

Dean could feel his eyes sliding to obsidian. “Give it your best shot.” he snarked, as the Thing 1 and Thing 2 attacked. Blades flashed beneath the streetlamps. The grunts of blows landing echoing in the night. Dean was bleeding from several wounds as the angel blades had the ability to hurt him but not kill him. The powers that Dean held within came to the front and he used the ability to slam Thing 2 into the nearest wall, unfortunately he was distracted enough that Thing 1 slammed his angel blade into his stomach. Grunting in pain, Dean stumbled backwards, pulling the blade out of his stomach much to the surprise of the two angels. The look on Dean's face was one filled with wrathful vengeance. His entire demeanor had shifted from defense to extreme offense.

Now armed with a blade. Dean attacked viciously and showing no mercy. The two angels were hard pressed to keep him at bay. Dean however was weakening due to the multiple cuts he had sustained. Dean pushed his back against the wall of the alley. Blood ran down his scalp, into his eye blurring his vision. “Look at you, not as powerful as you thought you were, are you, Dean?” Thing 1 taunted. “You're pathetic...” but that was the last thing he would say as an angel blade slammed into his chest to the hilt.

Dean slid into the blissful void of unconsciousness, but what he saw over Thing 1's shoulder before the darkness took him was almost awe inspiring. Castiel stood there his blue eyes blazing with fury. “He is not pathetic. You forget who his guardian is.” Castiel hissed in Thing 1's ear as his body exploded in a wash of bright light. Thing 2 snarled and rushed Castiel the blade held high. Yanking the short sword out of Thing 1's body, blood thick on the blade, the two faced off. One with a furious need to destroy the demon that was slumped against the wall. The other however, was furious with the need to protect. “Stand down.”

“Why do you protect him, Castiel?” Castiel didn't answer and Thing 2 pressed on, “Raphael was right. Humans are pathetic. And you...you Castiel, run to the Winchester's every time they call your name. They stub their toe, they call you to fix it. You're nothing more than their lapdog.”

That one word made Castiel explode into a rage that may have just rivaled Dean Winchester's. “I am NOT anyone's lapdog.” He snarled, his blade slicing at Thing 2's chest, drawing a line of blood and leaking grace. “The Winchester's are my friends, my FAMILY!”

Thing 2 stumbled backwards a few feet and stared at the thing Castiel was becoming. “They are NOT your family, Castiel. I thought we were!” he gestured to Dean with his right hand where the angel blade was clutched. “They are nothing but mud monkeys that walk the Earth until they die.” He lunged at Castiel the angel blade raised to strike. Castiel's left arm came up and blocked it.

“They are worthy of our protection!”

“NOT that one! He's a demon. And you Castiel are no better than he is!” Castiel's eyes darkened to a midnight blue, his upper lip curling into a silent snarl. The knuckles on his right hand tightened around the hilt of the sword until they were white with the strain. His six wings flared from his shoulders, making the angel in front of him cringe slightly. “You...You...” the angel stammered, backing away from Castiel lowering the weapon to his side before it fell to the asphalt with a clanging sound. “He has corrupted you!” was his statement at the sight of those wings.

“No. My association with Dean Winchester has not corrupted me.”

“You're more like them than us, Castiel. Come home, let us fix you.”

“In the words of the demon who is my charge, fuck you and the horse you rode in on.” Castiel hissed between clenched teeth before throwing the blade. Watching it embed in Thing 2's chest, the force of it, pinning him to the brick wall behind him. Retrieving his blade, Castiel then turned and knelt by Dean's side, “Dean?” he inquired, his voice softening ever so slightly. Calloused fingertips tapping Dean's bloody cheek. “Dean?!” The only indication that Dean was still alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest. Gingerly taking Dean's left arm, Castiel slung it over his shoulders and searched for Sam's essence, finding it, a minute spark that was close by, he teleported them both out of the alley.

 

~*~


	19. Siesta Motel, Salt Lake City

Siesta Motel, Salt Lake City

 

Sam was munching on a small salad and tapping on the keys. He was looking up more information on the murders within the Redwood National Forest when the soft sound of wings made him look up. Seeing Dean bloodied and unconscious made him scramble out of his chair, “Dean? Cas? What happened?” Sam asked, lifting his brother's other arm and helping Castiel over to the bed. “Will...”

“He will heal, Sam. It will just take time.”

“What did this? He was just going to the bar for a drink.” Sam pressed, wandering into the bathroom to wet a cloth so he could clean up the scratches on his brother's face at least.

“Angels did this. They know what he is.”

Sam frowned, “They know he's a demon.”

“Yes, but they do not know how powerful Dean truly is.” Castiel responded as he walked over to the window, using the angel sword in his hand to open his palm, blood welling to the surface as he started to inscribe a small sigil on the wall next to the pane of glass. “And they know that Dean has done something...unforgivable in their eyes.”

Pausing in his cleaning of Dean's face, Sam stared at Castiel, “Cas, what did he do?” He dropped the cloth and got to his feet. Making his way to Castiel and placing a hand on the angel's shoulder, “Did...Cas, did Dean hurt you when you and he...”

A pink blush covered Castiel's cheeks coming to the realization what Sam was talking about, “No. He didn't hurt me, nor did he do anything I didn't ask for. They want to kill Dean because he corrupted me. They know that I...” He suddenly stopped speaking as there was suddenly someone else in the room.

Crowley appeared, immaculate in his usual black suit. His blood red tie elegantly knotted about his neck. “Wingless. Moose.” He stated, taking a step in Dean's direction where he was sprawled on the seedy motel bed only to be blocked. “If Dean stays here, he will be hunted by everything, good and evil...angels and demons. He has spent his whole life hunting down and killing demons, and spitting in the face of angels. He will be much safer in Hell, where nothing can kill him.”

Castiel shook his head, glancing over to Sam. There was something else niggling at his brain, something he knew that he couldn't say to the King of Hell that was standing before him. He had seen the wound in Dean's stomach and knew that with an angel sword it should have killed him but it didn't. Castiel knew at that moment what exactly Dean had become. “We can protect him, Crowley. We've done it before. We will do it again.” he responded, the blade sliding into his palm.

Sam stepped in defensively between Castiel and Crowley, knowing it would come to a head quickly if he didn't. “Listen Crowley, Dean and I have tried this before . . . it doesn't work. We're stronger together and the second we try to go our separate ways, everything falls apart. This. This is no different.”

Crowley chuckled, “This is not a negotiation, Moose. You're just a mere human, and Wingless here is living on borrowed grace.” His voice got slicker and oilier by the second, “can you really protect him?”

“They are family, Crowley and there is nothing stronger than that. It matters not that Sam is just human . . . but there is one thing you are wrong about. My borrowed grace . . . not so much anymore.” Castiel said, his lips curling into a smile that was reminiscent of Dean's when he was up to something.

Crowley cocked an eyebrow at Castiel, “what are you talking about, Castiel?” He backed up a step, eying the angel warily.

Sam glanced between the duo who looked like they were standing on some dusty street in Sunrise, Wyoming back in the Wild West, about to pull their guns and moved closer to Dean in case something were to happen. Turning his head, Castiel glanced over at Sam, “Sam, close your eyes.” speaking of eyes, Castiel's were glowing a bright shade of bluish-white and intensifying in power. 

Sam's eyes went wide as he rushed to the bed and threw his gigantic body across Dean's face in hopes that if he were to open his eyes everything would still be fine. Sam then covered his own eyes with the palm of his hand but was still able to see a faint white light. Cas' eyes glowed brighter and brighter, nearly illuminating the room with a heavenly light. His wings unfurled from his back, taking up most of the space. They were not the two as Crowley might have remembered, but six. The feathers flared almost angrily, the shades of them were black at the top but tapered into darker hues of gray to a silver at the bottom. “I'm not exactly living on . . . what did you call it? Borrowed grace? Come near my charges . . . no, come near my family again and I will ERASE you from existence.”

Crowley tried not to look impressed and terrified at the sight of Castiel's display of power. “Don't let it be said that I didn't try to warn you of the dangers, Castiel. If you wish him to remain here, then so be it. But I will be the first to say 'I told you so' when my prophecies come true.”

“Get the fuck off me, SamSquatch.” came the muffled sound, distorted from under Sam's torso. Dean was still sore, an aching throb in the back of his skull.

“DEAN!” Sam screeched. Dean was definitely shifting under him and Sam leapt up starting to check Dean over for wounds that he couldn't see.

Crowley smiled one of those all-knowing smiles and glances between the trio, “Goodbye boys.” he whispered then vanished from the room leaving a strong scent behind.

Castiel felt the blade retreat back up his sleeve as he contorted his shoulders, his wings returning to the plane where they were usually. “He’s gone.”

Dean pushed Sam aside and glared at Castiel suspiciously, “What the hell was with the light show? Cas, you got something you want to say man?” There was a wringing in his gut as if the other shoe was about to drop.

Shaking his head, Castiel looked to Dean, “I have nothing to say but that I am sorry I did not arrive sooner.” He said, purposefully looking over at Sam to say nothing about his returned grace for the moment.

“Yeah, you and me both.” Dean huffed out a sigh of frustration. He knew that there was something Castiel was not saying, but the pounding in his head was overwhelming and even though he didn't need to the only thought on his mind was how good it would feel to have hot water sluicing over his back. “Shower.” he muttered, making his way to the bathroom and slipped inside.

Sam watched the exchange, “I'm going to go get another room, you two need to . . . well work this out.” he said to Castiel who nodded. “But thank you, Cas, for saving my brother.”

“You're welcome, Sam.” was the response. Sam gathered his things quietly and headed out the door. Castiel on the other hand made a line straight for the bathroom. “Dean,” Castiel started to say as he moved into Dean's personal space. “I have my grace back. It’s mine. Not borrowed.” he whispered, ducking his head slightly as though he were embarrassed.

Dean sighed in relief, “Well, I can't say that I'm thrilled about it, but I am glad you told me. I don't like it when you keep secrets, tends to screw me if you know what I mean.” He said, stepping closer and lifted the angel's chin. It was as if he were trying to comfort him with a simple look into those incredibly blue eyes. He wasn't sure what was going on with them but he needed more than a simple chaste kiss he was about to give.

As his chin went up, Castiel cast his gaze downwards. He knew that he loved Dean but he was never sure how the hunter turned demon felt about him. He was not about to press for an answer. “I am sorry, Dean.” Castiel said softly. It was taking everything he had not to turn his head into that hand and nuzzle those fingertips.

Dean pulled him closer latching onto the plush chapped lips, claiming everything he thought was rightfully his. Castiel was HIS angel and it would never be any other way. It was a silent language used only between them he dipped his head further sucking a bruise into the side of Castiel's throat marking him. “Mine.” he growled, before he dove back to the same spot, darkening it.

Castiel groaned, tilting his head back. Dean nipped at the sensitive skin. Hissing in pleasure as he was marked. Claimed. “Yours...” he whispered, voice husky and low.

Drowning in the scent of the ever present grace. Dean pulled back, not wanting to give in completely. There were still a few things he didn't know and he wanted answers. “Something has been bothering me...” he said, carding his hand through the locks sweetly, only to suddenly tighten his grip and jerk Castiel's head back. A deep chuckle emanating. “Why'd you do it? Why bother throwing yourself in a fight that was already rigged in my favor?”

Castiel's mouth parted at the yank to his hair. Yeah, he liked it when Dean was all rough and dominant, not that he was going to tell him at this moment in time. “I did it for you, Dean.” he said, “and what do you mean it was rigged in your favor?” he inquired back wanting to know exactly what Dean was thinking. For he had his own theories. His hand slid down, beneath the material of Dean's t-shirt to stroke the skin of his abdomen where the wound had been.

“I meant exactly what I said, Cas. It was rigged in my favor. That angel blade wasn't a toothpick and I'll admit it hurt like a son of a bitch but it didn't kill me. So the way I figure it, I'm pretty untouchable with the mark. Even a nerdy guy in a trench coat would have issues if he were to try to take me down.” he said, smiling lazily while he trailed light kisses over the swollen bruised skin.

Castiel growled low in his throat, his hands fisting in Dean's shirt as he turned him around and slammed him against the wall. “I could take you, Dean. Don't ever forget that.” he paused tilting his head, “You remember what I said to you before, all those years ago? I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in.” he smirked, “though, if I were to do that, I'd have to go with you, wouldn't I?” Castiel turned and exited the bathroom with a smile on his lips.

Dean chuckled and stripped out of his clothes, stepping into the shower. He smiled at the thought of Cas being willing to go through Hell with him all over again. He was pretty sure that for the first time in their dynamic he was the more lethal weapon, but one thing hadn't changed . . . and for that, he was grateful. Castiel, the Angel of the Lord still wouldn't put up with any of his bullshit.

 

~*~


	20. Redwood National Forest, California

Redwood National Forest, California

 

The Rangers of the National Park were very happy to see the two Federal Agents and handed over files that they had on the murders from the past, along with all the medical examiner files they had on hand. One of the Rangers, handed them keys to a cabin. Both Dean and Sam were grateful for it, they wanted to be here in the Park for the hunt that and the fact that most of the hotels in the area were full to capacity. With boxes of files in hand, the duo headed for the Impala and drove towards the cabin they had been given for their stay.

The rough-hewn log cabin sat on a low hill, and boasted a small porch. Dean parked the Impala and grabbed a box of files heading for the front door. Sam was following with their bags. Opening the door, Dean smiled at the interior. It was what he pretty much what he had expected. Thick braided rugs lay on the floor, and there were three doors off the living room. “What do you think, Sammy?”

“I think we should probably get to work.” he said, tossing the bags onto the floor.

Dean frowned and picked up his duffel bag, heading towards one of the rooms off the living room. The door was open. Dean stepped in the bedroom glancing around, even as he dropped his bag to the floor. Sighing, he looked almost longingly at the bed which was a queen size and covered in the most comfortable looking bedding that Dean had ever seen. He didn't even bother to unpack his gear, and headed back out to the living room where Sam already had the files open and was sifting through them. “Finding anything interesting?” he plopped down in a chair and reached for a file.

Sam nodded, “Yeah, according to this, the heart had been removed of the last victim last year.”

Dean shrugged a shoulder, “And?”

“The rib cage wasn't broken. Which means whatever did this reached in through the torso to pull out the heart.” Sam said as he put the pen that he had in his hand down atop the file and glanced over at Dean. He hasn't changed. Still hates research. Sam thought to himself watching Dean who was actually studying the autopsy photos as though he could see something that the medical examiner missed.

Dean stopped looking at the file in his hands for a minute, glancing towards the window. Something was bothering him, it was almost as someone was watching. Rising to his feet Dean headed towards the door and opened it. Stepping onto the porch, he glanced around. He saw no one, but he could not shake the feeling. “Damn, I gotta work on this.”

“Work on what? What'd you see?” Sam inquired as he joined his brother on the porch, a 9mm in his hand.

Shaking his head as though to clear it, Dean shrugged, “Thought I felt something watching me.”

“Nope, just an owl. Seems harmless.” Sam said taking in the flora and fauna surrounding them. Noticing the owl sitting on a branch, Sam noticed that it had mottled brown and white plumage with nearly black eyes that peered at the duo before letting out a hoot, stretching its wings and taking off. Once the bird was gone, the brothers headed back inside the cabin.

 

~*~

Ravyn returned to the natural caves where she and her sister were taking refuge. Zirena was curled up on a couple of blankets they had scavenged from a couple of campers. They hadn’t killed the family of four, but just taken the blankets for it got cold in the caves. Ravyn shifted to that of her human form and paced before the small fire that Zirena had obviously banked before taking her nap. The anger was rolling off of her in visible waves, and she knew what they were dealing with. Hunters. “Rena, wake up,” she whispered, dropping to a crouch in order to shake her sister awake. A series of soft chirps was the response. “Rena, seriously. C’mon, get up.” Ravyn pestered her sister, until she woke up.

Bleary eyed, Zirena sat up in the bedding and eyed her sister, “what is it?”

“Remember what I told you about the Hunters?”

Zirena nodded her head slightly. “You said to avoid them.”

“There is one here, I am not sure why. We need to eliminate him before he figures out who and what we are.” She said to her sister who nodded and got to her feet.

“How can you be sure that was what he was,” she countered. She unlike her sister hated the killing they had to do in order to survive. She was quite happy living off the flesh of animals that she killed. Ravyn lived for the hunt. The rush she got from the kill.

“I just know. He isn’t the first hunter I've crossed. You were too young to remember. I know how to read the signs, and what exactly to look for.” Ravyn said softly, “trust me, he is a Hunter.”

Zirena nodded thoughtfully, “then what are we going to do about him?”

A smile slid over Ravyn’s features, “we hunt the Hunter.”

 

~*~


	21. A Cabin in Redwood National Park

Dean took the Impala into town intent on a drink. Sam had opted not to go, saying he was too tired to go out which was a lie. What he truly wanted was to get Cas alone and ask him some questions. The familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine faded away and Sam looked up at the ceiling, “Cas, if you’re there, I need to talk to you.” The sound of wings rustling was nearly instantaneous and Castiel stood there, Sam gave him a warm smile, “hey Cas.”

“Hello, Sam. You said that you wished to speak to me.” He quickly glanced around the room but there was no sign of Dean. Inwardly he sighed in disappointment, not that he would not have responded to Sam’s call. He was the Winchester’s guardian angel after all. “Is there a problem with the hunt?”

“No, actually I wanted to talk to you about Dean.”

Castiel tilted his head slightly, “what about Dean?”

“How about we sit down. Do you want a beer?” Sam inquired as he pulled a long neck from the fridge and watched as Cas shook his head. Twisting off the top, Sam took a swallow of the amber colored liquid before seating himself on the couch. Castiel chose a chair and gingerly sat down. “How long, Cas?”

“How long for what, I do not understand.”

“Have you been in love with my brother?”

Castiel sighed leaning forwards in the chair, placing his forearms on his knees and lacing his fingers together. “A long time, Sam. It feels like I have loved him for a thousand years.” He took a deep breath, “I think it all started for me when I pulled him out of Perdition. When I touched him, Dean carried my mark. “

“And the profound bond?”

“That's . . . complicated.” Castiel responded, as he looked over at Sam.

Sam nodded slowly his hair flopping into his eyes and he pushed it out of his face, “explain it to me, Cas.”

“It all starts when I healed Dean's body . . .” Castiel started.

. . . _Dean's earthly body had been moved to Heaven. A small chamber that was built specifically for resurrections though it was not used often. Placing the jar with Dean's soul in it on a shelf nearby, Castiel stripped out of the armor that adorned his chest. Pauldrons, gauntlets, and his breastplate all stained with the black blood of demons formed a pile in the corner, leaving him bare chested in the soft illumination of the everlasting candles that burned. He moved then to the body. Someone had dressed Dean in clean clothing, for there was no evidence of the hell hound that had ripped him to pieces. Slowly, Castiel raised the dark blue t-shirt on Dean's torso and swallowed hard at the sight of the wounds that resided in his decomposing flesh._

_Picturing the perfection of Dean's body from when he saw him in Hell, Castiel's hand began to glow with Heavenly power. His internal organs were liquified, a soupy mess in the mangled torso. Dean's body jerked a bit as power flowed through him. His organs reforming under the angel's careful tutelage._

_Aryanel stood quietly in the door, after being ordered to by Michael. Watching over Castiel as she knew he was going to be exhausted. Unless they were of higher rank. A seraph or an archangel perhaps. It made her wonder why Michael had allowed Castiel to do the healing in the first place, but then again, Castiel was stubborn. He chose to do things his own way and apparently bringing his charge back from the dead was to be no exception._

_Castiel's body was glowing. Both his hands were hovering over Dean's mangled form, bring him back to be what he had once been. From where she stood, Aryanel could see the beads of sweat that appeared between Castiel's wings, trickling their way down his spine. How much grace is he using to heal this one human? She thought to herself. Suddenly the flesh of the body was whole once more. Castiel slumping slightly, thoroughly exhausted. “Castiel?” she queried, hurrying to his side and placing a hand on his heaving shoulder._

_Turning his eyes, his blue eyes were weary, “Aryanel.”_

_“How much grace did you use?”_

_“I am fine.”_

_Aryanel shook her head, realizing why Michael sent her after him. She was one of the only ones who could get Castiel to slow down. “No, you are not. You need rest.”_

_“I am fine.” Castiel insisted, his usual gravelly voice deeper signifying exactly how exhausted he in fact was. “I need to reunite his body with his soul.”_

_Her nod was solemn. “Very well, Castiel. What can I do to help?” She inquired, her hand never having moved from his shoulder. Castiel got to his feet, but stumbled and she sat him back down. “Castiel you are not strong enough.” She mused, as she watched him clamber back to his feet._

_“I have to be.” He moved slowly towards the container that housed Dean's soul. The shelf seeming to be further away than it actually was. Placing a hand on the wall to support himself. Aryanel moved to his side instantly, taking his arm around her shoulders. Waving his hand he sent the now fully healed body back where it was in the grave that his brother had dug for him._

_Aryanel followed Castiel down to the Earth where they both hovered a hundred feet over the crudely made cross where Dean Winchester's body now intact once more rested. He took the lid off the jar which Aryanel was holding and Dean's soul emerged from the container, bright as a star in the sky. It hovered close to Castiel who reached out with a single finger. A tendril of light curling around it. “Castiel, are you certain you can do this?”_

_“Yes.” The only way to merge the soul with the body was power and Castiel's was waning. He had used a lot of his own grace in order to heal the body, and Castiel knew it now more than likely better than his own. He gazed fondly at the soul that hovered over his palm, “are you ready?” Dean’s soul pulsated in response. Castiel lifted his hand over his head, letting what was left of his grace gain in power. He then threw the soul down towards Earth, watching as it gained speed then sank into the ground._

_Both Aryanel and Castiel knew exactly when the soul hit the body it belonged to. The trees around the grave all cracked and fell as the explosion resonated through the surrounding area. “What do you know, its a Thursday.” Aryanel glanced over at Castiel, who suddenly crumpled. Reaching out she steadied him. “Castiel?”_

_“I need rest.”_

_Aryanel shook her head and resisted the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance. She refrained from telling Castiel exactly what she thought of his recklessness, and stubborn nature, but barely. “We should return to Heaven, Castiel.”_

_Castiel nodded. “We should. I may need your help.” He said. A sad smile on his lips as he realized he was out of juice in order to return himself to heaven to recharge. Aryanel smiled softly and wrapped her arms around him, launching them both into the air with a powerful sweep of her wings_ . . .

“So, you infused him with your grace while you were healing him?”

“Yes.”

“And it bound you?”

“Yes, and Kitoel said something strange. That my destiny was closer than I knew.” Castiel said as he got up from the chair and walked over to the fireplace where he placed his left arm on the mantel and stared at the logs that rested in the grate. “I think I know what she meant, now.”

Sam looked over at Castiel, who was standing not five feet away from him. The look on his face was one of intense concentration, as though he was contemplating something he didn't want to contemplate. “What did she mean, Cas?”

Castiel turned and looked Sam dead in his hazel eyes, “we are soul mates.”

“Like opposite sides of the same coin?” Sam questioned, and at Castiel's nod he continued, “Yin and Yang, Good and Evil. Heaven and Hell.” That made Castiel smile and it was so rare that Castiel smiled, Sam was actually shocked into silence for a moment. “Well, that makes sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Its just, you and Dean have this language all your own. I can't believe I didn't see it before.” Sam sighed, “You always came when he called. Its like you've always been with him.”

“I was there when you were born.”

“What?”

. . . _Mary Winchester was panting, flushed red from pain and screaming at the top of her lungs. Castiel tilted his head watching the red faced woman who was moving between gritting her teeth, cursing a blue streak or pushing. Castiel had been around for a very long time, had never seen a woman give birth before. He reached out and placed the palm of his hand on her forehead, soothing her pain. A ghostly smile slid over Mary Winchester's face as she looked up. “An angel.”_

_“Push, Mrs. Winchester!” the doctor said. She arched up and pushed hard. Sooner rather than later, a crying newborn was being washed off and wrapped in a blanket. The baby was then set in her arms, while the doctor left the room to go inform John and Dean. He entered the room where Dean was scribbling on the paper and John had finally stopped his pacing. “You have a healthy baby boy, John. Congratulations.” Dean who had gotten up, was clutching the picture in his hands, grinned. “And Dean. You have a baby brother.”_

_“Can I see my mom now?” Dean asked, as he looked up at the doctor._

_“We've moved your mom to a private room. I can take you there if you like.”_

_“Can I Daddy?” Dean asked, looking over in his Father's direction._

_“Yeah, I'll be there in a minute.”_

_Dean let out a happy sound and scampered after the doctor, who led him down the hallway to a well lit room. Mary was sitting up in the bed, a small blanket in her arms which she was presently rocking back and forth. Dean peered down at the red faced baby, and Mary held baby Sam up for Dean to see. Her oldest child was smiling. “He's so small.” Dean remarked, reaching out with his hand to touch his brother's small cheek. “is he always gonna be so tiny?”_

_“No, he's going to grow, just like you do.” Mary said in response. “Dean, did you want to hold little Sammy?”_

_John walked in at that moment and smiled at his family which just increased by one. He was leaning on the doorjamb, and crossed his arms across his chest. “Go ahead, Dean.” He said, stepping forwards to take the picture that Dean was holding and set it on the table. Then he lifted Dean up and sat him next to Mary on the bed._

_Dean leaned back against the pillows next to his mother and gazed at the tiny bundle that was his baby brother in her arms. She held him out slowly, “support his head, and cradle him in your arms.” Watching carefully as Dean did what he was told, and then he began to rock his little brother whose hazel eyes opened. A tiny hand came up and gripped Dean's finger in his little fist._

_“I'm your big brother Dean, Sammy. I'll always be here for you.” Dean whispered._

_John walked around to the other side of the bed and pulled his wife close for a hug. “How are you feeling?”_

_Mary pushed a lock of hair out of her face, “tired, but happy.” She would not mention the feeling of warmth and love that had come to her, or the figure she swore was standing over her during the last few minutes of her labor. She was still unsure of what it was or what it had been. She had been a Hunter before she married. Given it up to raise a family. She knew the things that went bump in the night, but whatever had been at her bedside was not one of those things. She could feel something close by, a protective presence._

_Castiel found himself fascinated by humans. The way they spoke to each other with such affection in their voices. It was not unlike the angels when they spoke of their Father. Occasionally their words confused him, or they made references that he did not understand. He understood this family, even though only one of them was his actual charge._

_“Mommy, will an angel watch after Sammy too?” Dean asked as he looked down at his baby brother, who was waving tiny fists in the air. Castiel looked over at the young boy who was his responsibility at the question then glanced in Mary's direction holding his breath waiting for her answer._

_Mary nodded, “I'm sure one will, Dean. Like one watches over you.” she said, reaching over and gently touching his nose. Dean giggled._

_“Hi. I'm here to take your son up to the nursery.” The nurse who walked in spoke softly. She smiled at the family, noticing then that the young boy who was holding the newborn pulled him tighter in against his small chest. “I'll bring him back, I promise.”_

_John glanced at the nurse then to Dean, “Dean, give your brother to the nurse, he'll be back in a little while.”_

_Dean eyed the nurse critically. He was not that familiar with hospitals, but he didn't trust easily. Reluctantly, he handed Sam over, “cradle his head.” Dean admonished much to the nurse's amusement._

_“This is your little brother then?”_

_Dean nodded solemnly, “I have to protect him.”_

_The nurse smiled, “Well, if your parents don't mind, you can come with me. We are only going a few doors down the hall, he can come back whenever he wishes.”_

_Mary and John exchanged glances, then gave their consent. It wasn't like he was leaving the hospital. He was looking after his baby brother like a good brother should. “Dean. You do whatever the nurse tells you. She is like a teacher. There are rules you have to follow and don't touch anything.” John said, while Dean hopped down off the bed, “understand me, buddy?”_

_“Yes, Daddy.” Dean responded, before he followed after the nurse. Castiel followed them into the hallway before he glanced around making sure no one saw him and vanished in a rustle of wings_ . . .

“Thank you, Cas.”

“For what?”

“Being there for us all this time. I mean, I know and understand that Dean is your main charge, but thank you for watching over me as well.”

“I could only do so much.” Castiel responded.

Sam knew exactly what Castiel was thinking of and got up walking over to the angel in question placed a hand on his shoulder. “I know you tried to get me out of Lucifer's Cage and I may not have ever said it before, but I am thankful you did.”

“I didn't do a good job of it, I left your soul behind.”

“Did you do it on purpose?”

“No.”

“Then don't worry about it. I'm just grateful you tried in the first place.” Sam said as he reached out and pulled Castiel into his arms, giving the angel a hug. It was for more than just pulling him out of the Cage, it was for all the times that the angel was there for them.

Castiel wound his arms around Sam and returned the hug, before he pulled back, “was that all you wanted to speak with me about Sam?”

“Actually, no. Take a look at these and tell me what you think.” He said as he led the angel over to the table where the autopsy photos were strewn about. Castiel picked one up and studied it, before lifting a few of the others off the table where Sam had them laid out. His expression was thoughtful. “Cas, do you see something?”

“The wounds were inflicted by something supernatural?” Castiel inquired. Sam nodded and glanced at the picture Castiel was holding. “You might want to look up the Strix, they are supposedly a myth but this proves that we may have been wrong.”

“The Strix?”

“Yes.”

Sam pulled over his laptop and opened the lid, typing furiously on the keyboard. “Hey Cas?”

“Sam?”

“Can I ask you something?” Castiel nodded. “You're a Seraph, and Dean's a demon. I think I'm the weak link in this triumvirate.”

Castiel leaned on the table, crossing his arms over his chest. “Samuel,” Sam blinked and looked up at Castiel who rarely used his full name if ever. “You are not a weak link to Dean or I. Even after all this time, Dean will always need you.” he paused a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “You are family. Brothers. Something, that . . . I wish I had in Heaven but never truly did.”

“Cas, you know you're family to us, don't you?” Sam inquired, as he looked up at the angel from his seat. “You, Dean and me. As dysfunctional and crazy as we can be on occasion, we are a family.”

Castiel let a small smile slide over his lips. “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot.”

 

~*~


	22. Crescent City, Utah

Crescent City, Utah

 

The bar was packed almost to capacity, but the dance floor seemed to be where all the action was taking place. Music, the kind that you almost needed a sensory deprivation tank to truly deal with was pumping, the floor shaking with the bass line but the bodies on the floor didn't seem to have a care in the world or even mind. Promises of sex. The scent of arousal was thick. But the focus was on two women in the center of the floor. Ravyn wore a pair of black leather skin-tight pants, a red sports bra under a mesh short sleeve shirt. Zirena was in blue jeans and a tight tank top in a deep purple color. Dean was nursing a beer at the bar, watching them both. Ravyn looked across the crowded room at him and winked one luminous gray eye at him.

The song ended, and that prompted Ravyn and Zirena to leave the dance floor. They approached Dean and Ravyn gazed at him. “Hey cowboy, buy a couple of girls a drink?”

Dean's gaze went slowly over Ravyn's body, searching for something. It was Castiel that he wanted there, not this girl who was a little too skinny for his taste anyway. “Sorry, I'm seeing someone.”

Zirena sighed, she thought it was romantic, “she's very lucky then.”

“Yeah, he is.”

That made Zirena grin, “I promise I won't bite! Just one dance!” she said looking up at him, her amber colored eyes wide and pleading.

Dean groaned inwardly, _damn, Sammy could learn something from this girl's puppy look_. He thought to himself. Rising from the stool he shook his head grinning, “One. Dance.” he said. Sliding a couple of bills on the counter, he spoke to the barkeep, “three beers.” He then let the girl drag him onto the dance floor.

Zirena pulled Dean onto the floor and the two of them started to dance. The song was a ballad and Zirena made her way into Dean's arms, feeling the strength of the hunter even through his clothes. They danced together slowly. Where Zirena felt secure and safe in his arms, Dean was thinking more about Castiel and how much he wanted to be dancing with him and not this girl. Dean had always been attracted to women. But, he held Zirena in his embrace, feel her curves pressed against him, breasts crushed against his chest, and it was not what he wanted. He wanted the angel. His angel. The angel that raised him from Perdition. The angel that didn't understand simple human expressions. He wanted Castiel.

Ravyn watched as her sister distracted the Hunter, long enough so that she dumped some belladonna in the foam of his beer. When the song was over they headed back to where she was standing. Picking up the drugged beer, she hands it to Dean who accepts it and without thinking takes a healthy swallow. The alcohol tasted funny on his tongue and he knew what had happened. She had drugged him. But the question was why. He saw how Ravyn was watching him, it was a calculated look, the same look he had when he was on a hunt. Putting his half drunk beer glass back down on the bar, he got to his feet, “nice meeting you ladies, but I'm off to meet an angel.” he said before purposefully stumbling for the door to the bar.

Zirena sighed, “I don't want to do this.”

“We have to, Sister.” Ravyn replied, as she maneuvered her way through the crowd, Zirena at her heels. When they hit the parking lot, they both glanced around in bewildered. Dean was nowhere to be found. “Where did he go?” Ravyn hissed. This pissed her off, she never lost her prey.

“I'm here. The question is, why you drugged me.” Both women whipped around to find Dean sitting on the hood of the Impala. His right leg hung down past the wheel but his left was bent, the heel of his boot resting on the sleek black metal. The streetlamp that hung above Dean, illuminated him in a golden glow but it was those eyes, that opened and narrowed on the two women that had them gasping. They were solid black, without a hint of color. “So, explain it to me.”

“You're a demon.”

“Don't start throwing stones, lady. You ain't exactly human either.” Ravyn hissed viciously, the tips of her fingers becoming claws. Her wings, brown and mottled sprouted from her back in a spray of blood. Dean tilted his head and jumped off the car, stalking towards her. “I know you. You're that fucking owl from earlier!”

Zirena shrank back towards the shadows. These two alphas about to go head to head and she did not want to be in the middle of it. With a low growl, Ravyn launched herself at Dean claws extended. Dean's arm came up to block the incoming strike but the claws sliced through the material of his dark blue long sleeved shirt and drew blood from his forearm. Normally, Dean didn't hit girls but she hit him first and drew first blood. He lashed out with his right fist slamming it against her cheek and spinning her around. Ravyn grunted with the fist to her face and went down to a knee on the asphalt. Her leg swept out and took his legs out from under him even as she scrambled back to her feet.

Landing hard, Dean let out a grunt. The back of his head connected with the parking lot. Stars exploded behind his eyes. Ravyn snarled and threw herself at Dean's still prone form sprawled on the ground but was unprepared for the leg that came up. His booted foot connecting with her stomach and launching her over his head. Rolling onto his shoulders, he flipped back up to his feet. Just in time to grasp both of her wrists in his hands. From the proximity of where Dean stood, he could see the fangs in her mouth lengthening. Wrenching her head back, she darted forwards like a bird and snapped at his face.

Dean snapped his head back avoiding the bite, “you need a fucking mint.” She kept darting forwards trying to take a bite out of his face. Dean hissed at her. He threw his head forwards and head butt her right in her nose while she dove in for another strike. Dean shoved her away from himself, watching her stumble backwards. “Bring it, Bitch! I'm done playing around.” The two of them met in the center of the parking lot. Blows were viciously exchanged, but neither one of them gained the upper hand. Zirena just watched from the shadows. Just then there was a rustling sound of wings. Hissing, Ravyn let out a shrill cry. She and her sister took to the skies, leaving Dean alone in the parking lot.

 

~*~


	23. Dante's Bar, Utah

Dante's Bar, Utah

 

Castiel blinked as a woman suddenly vanished to the skies on wings. Dean whipped around, his eyes filled with desire. Whether it was to kill or fuck was anyone's guess. Scowling, Dean looked at Castiel, “c'mon, I need a drink.” He said heading back through the bar's door. Castiel followed after Dean only to watch him pay for a bottle of tequila, snatch up the shot glasses; and then move to a booth in the corner. Dean slid in with the grace of a lion. Castiel sat across from him, “I hate drinking alone, Cas.” he said pouring two shots of tequila.

Having done this before, Castiel picked up the shot glass. Lifting it to his lips swallowed the contents and set the glass back down. Dean did a shot then poured them both two more. His phone started to ring in the pocket of his jeans. Drawing it out Dean flipped it open, “Yeah? Yeah, Cas is here. I'm fine. We'll be back in a little while, Sammy.” Closing the phone seconds later he glanced over at the angel who had already downed his second shot. “Sam said you sensed I was in danger.”

“I did, Dean.”

“How did you sense it?”

“It just started as a tingling in the back of my head. I just knew.”

“Thanks, Cas. You never cease to amaze me.” Castiel blushed though in the low light of the bar although Dean couldn't see the color rise to his cheeks. “So, you, uh, wanna dance?” Dean asked, gesturing with his head towards the dance floor where several bodies were still moving to the pulse pounding beat of the music.

“I would like to try, Dean.” Castiel said as he rose to his feet. It was then that Dean noticed Castiel's trench coat was all buttoned up. “Should I remove my coat?”

“Probably. Gonna get _hot_ out there.” Dean responded. Castiel moved his fingers through the buttons and undid the belt, removing it and placing it on the bench of the booth. Dean had to swallow heavily as it appeared that his angel was learning very quickly how to dress. That or Sam had something to do with it. “Nice outfit.” Dean quipped.

“Thank you, Dean.” Castiel was dressed in blue jeans, a black t-shirt that clung to his upper body like a second skin, and over it was a plaid shirt partially buttoned that made his eyes seem even more blue than they were.

Dean shifted in his seat before rising and following Castiel to the dance floor. Castiel raised his hands over his head, pressing himself backwards into Dean's lithe form, swaying sensually against his partner. Dean's arms wrapped around Castiel, holding him there. Face buried in the side of his neck. The two of them were sweaty. Really wasn't all that hard with all the bodies on the floor and the proximity to each other. Sweat dripped off of Dean's forehead into Castiel's tousled hair, but neither one of them noticed.

Castiel was having a hard time keeping a thought in his head. He had no clue that Dean could move in such a manner. He had seen the man fight: Deadly. Graceful. Seen him fuck: Hard. Rough. Unforgiving. But this . . . was blowing Castiel's mind. The way Dean seemed to move freely, his inhibitions lowered, of course that could have been the tequila. He dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder, glancing up at his dance partner. “Dean,” Castiel spoke softly. Tongue coming out from between his parted lips to wet the lower one.

Dean was gone. His body a raging inferno. He hadn't felt this way with Zirena in his arms. Castiel on the other hand. Now, Dean suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. He wanted to lay Castiel down somewhere and show him how attracted he was. How much he did love the angel that had given him everything and taken nothing in return. Hearing his name, Dean looked down and saw that Castiel was staring up at him. Cerulean gaze almost glowing in the low light of the bar. Hissing a sharp inhale, Dean wished he could just tighten his grip on Castiel. Kiss him senseless. But this was not the place to do so. Swallowing and shifting his hips to try and rid himself of his sudden erection, he realized that Castiel was sexy in those clothes that he FINALLY figured out where the angel had gotten them. Out of his duffel bag. _Damn you Sammy_. Dean thought to himself. Then he spoke, “let's get out of here, Cas.”

Castiel made a quick stop by the booth where he picked up his trench coat. He fell into step next to Dean while they left the bar together. The engine of the Impala growled, and Dean pulled out of the parking lot. Dean drove awhile, the soft strains of Metallica's Unforgiven playing from one of the many tapes that Dean cherished. Dean was drumming his fingertips against the steering wheel. Castiel trying to memorize the words. The headlights cut through the dark. Illuminating the blacktop while they drove along. Without a word the car veered off the road to a field where Dean drove for about a mile before he put his beloved car in park and cut the engine. Castiel glanced around, “Dean, why have we stopped?”

“Just get out, Cas.” Dean replied as he climbed out of the Impala. Frowning, Castiel did following Dean to the front where he leaned on it. Resting his ass just on the edge of the hood. Crossing his legs at the ankle. Dean didn't lean next to Castiel on the bumper but hopped up and sat on the hood. Leaning over, Dean tugged on Castiel's, well his shirt and spoke, “C'mon Cas. Sit up here with me.”

Castiel clambered up onto the car's hood and sat next to Dean. Both of them had their legs extended, but where Castiel recrossed his at the ankle, Dean's left leg was bent at the knee, his right leg still straight. Leaning back against the warm hood of the Impala, both men rested on their elbows. Canting his head backwards slightly, Castiel stared up at the stars watching a few shoot across the sky leaving fiery trails in their wake. Dean had turned off the headlights but the strains of Metallica could still be heard. “Do you do this often, Dean?”

“Sometimes.” Dean responded. This had always been almost holy to Dean. The still warm hood of his beloved Impala looking up at the night sky. It was as close as you could get to the kind of heaven that your average human believed in. He occasionally took Sam when they had been younger, but he preferred to go alone. It was a good way to organize his thoughts. Think about certain things whether it had been the past, the present or the future.

“Thank you, Dean.”

“For what?”

“Sharing this with me.” Castiel said. There was a serene sort of smile on the angel's lips. He glanced in Dean's direction and pointed to the stars, “Look, it is your constellation. Orion, the Hunter.”

Dean smiled for a split second before realizing the human hunter wasn't who he was anymore. The demon wanted out. It wanted to take control and Dean was struggling daily, constantly to keep it somewhat under wraps. “Yeah, sure is Cas.” wincing at the tone of his own voice. It was like he was humoring a child, and Castiel was no child even though occasionally he came across like one.

Castiel tilted his head and had that look of confusion on his face that Dean had always found slightly adorable. “Do you not believe you are a hunter anymore, Dean?” his voice was quiet. Dean was his hunter. His demon. “Because I think you are.”

“I don't know what I am anymore Cas, only pretty damned hard to kill. I suppose, I should be grateful . . .” his voice trailed off unsure of what he wished to say next.

A nod of the tousled head, “I understand. I'm grateful for a lot of things Dean.”

Dean sighed, “You know Cas, sometimes I think you got dealt a shit hand. Hell, having ME for a charge or whatever was about the worst hand you could get.” Dean said with a sadistic laugh.

Castiel frowned. “I did not get dealt a shit hand as you say. I am proud to have you as my charge, Dean.” he said, “you're my . . .” his voice trailed off.

Dean turned his head and gazed at the angel seated next to him on the hood. “Problem, trouble, responsibility, duty, obligation, you might wanna finish that sentence, Cas.”

Castiel looked thoughtful, “you are not a problem, Dean. Trouble, yes. But its a good trouble I think. You've been my responsibility for a long time and I have been honored to be your guardian.” Castiel spoke gazing at Dean, “what is your definition of home?” he asked, “I mean, do you think of the bunker as home, Dean?”

Dan frowned, “I dunno Cas, the bunker's cool but I wouldn't consider it home any more than anywhere else. Certainly not as much as the Impala here. She's been through it all with us.” Dean responded, as he pat the Impala's hood with love. “She's family.”

“I do understand that Dean. You and Sam, you've made me feel like family.” he whispered, staring up at the stars. The hood was still warm and it gave Castiel a warm feeling. It was if the Impala herself was offering him comfort or a warm hug of welcome. “I don't consider Heaven home . . . not anymore.”

“So where is home now Cas? Down here with us mud monkeys?” He teased.

Castiel sighed audibly, “yes. Home is with Sam and you, Dean. I don't feel like I belong anywhere else.” He responded, reaching blindly for Dean's hand with his own and twined their fingers together, “that is . . .if you want me there.”

“You'll always be welcome, Cas.” Dean smiled. It was a true smile, and Dean leaned over and captured Castiel's bottom lip in his mouth giving it a tug. Hearing Castiel squeak at the sucking of his lower lip he suddenly pulled back. Dean stifled the grin that threatened to blossom further as Castiel didn't seem to want to end the kisses. Curling his fingers against Castiel's stubble kissed jaw, Dean stroked the angel's cheekbone with the roughened pad of his thumb. “We could be so good together, Cas. Don't deny it.” He spoke huskily.

Castiel had to pull away from Dean's questing thumb. It felt too good against his cheek. He had to distance himself from Dean. “Dean. I can't do this. I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost.” Turning his head away so that he could not see the expression on his features, “it . . . its killed me Dean. To watch you every day, with others and it was never me.”

 

~*~


	24. A grassy field beneath the stars, somewhere in Utah

A grassy field beneath the stars, somewhere in Utah

 

“Cas, I . . . I don't know what to say man, but you should know that this isn't some random hook up with a chick I met at the bar. I don't know what will happen but I think we should take what we can get while we have the chance.”

Castiel gathered his hands in his lap, “You give, Dean. Selflessly. You care more about others than you do about yourself. You've always been like that.” He leaned over and kissed Dean, this one was sweet and full of promise. “And for the record, I'm not some bar chick and I WILL smite who dares touch what is mine.” His hand slid under Dean's jacket and connected with the place where had pulled him out of Hell. Sending a pulse of his grace through it. Rolling suddenly, Castiel straddled Dean's slender hips.

“Christ Cas!” Dean groaned at both the feeling of grace that flowed into his body from Castiel's touch and the fact that the angel was now on top of him. Their cocks, confined by denim slid against one another causing delicious friction. Castiel's hand moved from his bicep only to grasp the lapels of the leather jacket. Yanking Dean upwards into a seated position on the hood. Without missing a beat, Castiel swept his tongue into the recesses of Dean's mouth. Teasing. Tasting the tequila that they had been drinking not an hour prior. Dean let himself be pulled into the kiss of a lifetime. Grasping the angel's waist, he desperately clung to Castiel as if he were afraid the moment would disappear. He slid his fingers down squeezing handfuls of flesh.

Wrapping his legs around Dean's waist, Castiel groaned deeply with the kneading of his ass. The metal of the Impala's hood squealing slightly at the additional weight of both men sitting on her. Breaking the kiss, Castiel stared at Dean. Eyes filled with lust and the pupils blown wide. “Dean, will you . . .” his voice trailed off as he bit his lower lip, suddenly shy for what he truly wanted to ask for.

Dean opened his eyes, having closed them under the onslaught of the angel's kisses. The image of Castiel, pupils so wide that all he could truly see was a faint glowing ring of blue made his already very interested cock twitch in his jeans. He looked debauched and shy at the same time and it spiked a perverse thrill in Dean. “Will I what Cas? Tell me what you need.” Castiel continued to worry his lower lip between his teeth and Dean realized it was his nervous gesture. 

“I've . . . I've always wondered. Will you make love to me in the backseat?” he whispered against the side of Dean's throat where he had buried his face, nipping at the jugular vein with his teeth.

A small laugh escaped Dean's lips. “Well Cas, all you had to do was ask.” Sliding both of them off the hood of the car was easy. Setting the angel on his feet, Dean pushed his hand against Castiel's chest pinning him to the back door.

A grunt left Castiel's mouth as he hit the door, his eyes widening slightly. He wanted to feel what Dean would do to him. “Dean, don't tease me.” Castiel said, his voice taking on a husky quality that was laced with desire.

“Oh I'm not teasing Cas, I fully intend to make good on this.” Dean responded settling himself in-between Castiel's legs. He dipped in for another one of those deep kisses while taking his sweet time unbuttoning each small plastic obstacle of the plaid shirt. Dean could have just ripped it open. But this was going to set the mood in a very different light. As much as Dean wanted to ravage the angel in his arms, he knew it needed to be more than just a quick fuck. He realized right then and there that Castiel. . . Angel of the Lord. The one who raised him from Perdition. His best friend. Had NO fucking clue how he truly felt about him. The slow method was an easy way to send the message without having to say a word.

Castiel whimpered. Dean's fingers maneuvering each button from the holes, drawing it out made him writhe against the Impala. Castiel lifted his left leg and wrapped it around Dean's calf pulling him harder against him. “Please...let me...” he gasped out, his fingers clenching and unclenching as though searching for something. Anything to hang on to while his senses spun out of control and into chaos.

“Soon enough, Castiel . . . but not before I get my mouth on you.” Dean whispered. His hands pushing aside the flannel material only to slide beneath the soft black cotton of the t-shirt pulling it up the tanned flesh revealing every inch of the lean musculature underneath. “Arms up.” he commanded and hot damn if Castiel didn't respond instantly. Raising his arms obediently, Dean pulled the plaid shirt and the black tee off of Castiel's body. Tossing both articles towards the hood of the Impala where they landed haphazardly, baring the angel to his hungry gaze.

Castiel gasped. The cool night air caressing the skin of his chest like a lover. His fingers longed to reach for Dean's short dirty blond hair to pull him close. Kiss him senseless. Hold him tight to his body and never let him go. This was the tip of forever, and they had all the time in the world. “Kiss me Dean,” he said huskily, licking his lower lip with the tip of his pink tongue.

Dean obliged the request instantly and latched onto Castiel's mouth with a heated fury burning in his veins. Dean wanted so badly to just give in to Cas and he knew if he did, it would be a matter of seconds before he had the tight heat of his angel wrapped around his cock. He didn't want things to escalate the same way it had before. If it took everything inside him there would be little to no doubt that Castiel would know exactly how he felt before the night was over. Castiel snarled in the kiss, biting at Dean's lips trying to crawl into his mouth. He didn't want to wait, he needed Dean. The connection between them strained to be completed. The soul-searing kiss broke between them and Castiel threw his head back letting it thunk against the roof of the vehicle.

“Hey, don't dent my baby.” Dean spoke. He splayed his hands across Castiel's chest, the rough pad of his thumbs stroking the finely sculpted collarbones with a featherlight touch. Dean started to kiss his way down the tightly toned body in front of him. Nipping at certain places that made the angel's breath catch. Castiel was failing to hold onto the scraps of his control which were scattering to the four winds with each kiss and nip searing Dean's claim on him. Dean paid close attention to Castiel's nipples. His tongue swirled around the left one, biting at it with his teeth. His right hand left those slender collarbones and traced his fingertip around Castiel's right nipple, before twisting it lightly.

A hiss left Castiel's mouth as he glanced downward. Cerulean eyes wide as it took all that he had to not sink to his knees in the grass before Dean. “God, Dean...”

Dean let his fingers roam over his ribs causing the angel to writhe slightly, even as he slid slowly to his knees in the dirt. “Ever think about this Angel? Having me on my knees for you?” Dean asked, digging his fingertips into the chiseled hipbones that peeked out from the waistband of the denim. His lips moved against the outline of Castiel's cock that was pushing against the material of his Levi's.

Castiel's hips of their own accord thrust towards Dean's wanton mouth, wanting more contact. Suddenly frustrated with the fact that he was still in the jeans Sam had helped him pick out. “Yes,” his voice was husky. There was something about seeing Dean on his knees before him that made Castiel's heart pound a frantic rhythm in his chest. Castiel thought it was going to burst out of his chest.

With a flick of his wrist Dean undid the button of the jeans as it covered what he wanted most and the material fell with a soft thump to the ground. “Cas, you went commando?” Dean queried. Thinking it rather wicked that his angel wasn't wearing any underwear.

Castiel tilted his head, “I do not understand that reference, Dean.”

“Never mind. I like it.” Dean responded. He purposefully avoided the cock that was nudging the underside of his chin and teased those hipbones with the tip of his tongue. Each ridge was mapped, not a space missed or ignored. When the angel above him groaned, Dean repeated the same motions, this time using his teeth.

The wind picked up making Castiel tremble. It was that tongue, that wanton mouth, that wicked smile on Dean's lips that was just about to shatter his resolve. “Dean!” Castiel hissed between clenched teeth.

Dean grinned impishly and slid the roughest part of his tongue across the blood-filled head of Castiel's cock before blowing cool air across the tip just to drive his angel wild. Inching further forwards he took the now leaking head into his mouth and gave it a nice long suck. The drop of precum tasted of honey but that wasn't enough. He took and took until he felt the tip digging into his throat and he actually smiled around the salty heated flesh. Castiel moved his hands then to card through Dean's short locks, caressing the scalp for a moment. He didn't dare took down at Dean, but his will power was gone. He couldn't not look and when he did . . . the look of Dean on his knees, swallowing him whole made his entire body shiver. Dean looked so hot that it made Castiel's knees weaken and threaten to give out on him.

Dean made wanton slurping noises around the warm thick cock in his mouth and he never thought he'd enjoy having a dick in his mouth. But then this was _Cas_. Knowing he could break Castiel down like this without the use of any unseen powers was intoxicating. Castiel tightened his fingers in those short locks until his knuckles were white. He tossed his head back once more, his eyes fluttering shut. Pleasure raced through his veins like magma. Dean's fingers slid over Castiel's thighs to those delectable hip bones, roughened pads caressing the silken skin. Diving in further over the spit slick cock, Dean could feel Castiel's resolve break like a wave upon the shoreline. Castiel's body was screamed for release. Bit his lip hard enough that he drew a single drop of crimson blood. His voice was raw as he whispered Dean's name, his orgasm washing through him with the electricity of a lightning bolt.

Dean felt the hot liquid course down his throat and he swallowed hard around it. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that the angel had shoved in one last time before shooting because it mean the hot cum spurted down his throat avoiding the taste-buds in his mouth completely. That was certainly something Dean never expected to think. Pulling off of Castiel's cock with an obscene slurping noise and audible pop he climbed his way back up the shaking body. 

Castiel was not expecting Dean to suck his brains out through his cock but that was exactly what had just happened. His entire body quaked with the aftermath, even as Dean got to his feet and shucked his jacket letting it fall to the ground. “That looked pretty intense Cas,” Dean remarked speaking of Castiel's orgasm. Castiel could barely nod, squeaking softly while Dean placed soft kisses along Castiel's jaw making a line straight for those lips where he sucked the blood off that lower lip while waiting for Cas to regain his composure. Dean kissed the blood from his lip, “you feel so good, can't wait to lay you down in that backseat. How long have you been waiting for that Castiel . . . how long has it been that you've fantasized about being pinned underneath me against the leather seat and feeling my cock inside you?” he inquired, whispering into the shell of Castiel's ear.

Castiel's right hand slid down and rubbed Dean's cock through the denim, soft moans leaving his lips as Dean whispered such naughty things in his ears. “Ever since Anna kissed you. I knew . . . what you and she had done and I wanted to be her.” he responded, his fingers deftly undid the button of Dean's jeans only to wriggle his hand in the material and stroke Dean's cock through the cotton of the boxer briefs he was wearing. “Do you remember the pizza man, Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas . . . I remember.” was all he managed to choke out before his head fell back in pleasure. Castiel's hand was soft and warm.

The smile that covered Castiel's lips was shy, “I wanted to kiss you like that, not her.” he said, “it was my lame attempt to make you jealous.”

Dean groaned at the memory of Castiel making out with Meg of all people, “As much as I enjoy your confessions Cas. I gotta say its a bit of a boner killer for you to be talking about making out with another demon. How about for now we just keep it between you and me?”

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel nodded quietly. His fingers curling around Dean's cock and stroked it through the material a bit harder, his thumb rubbing around the head, spreading the droplets of moisture he found there. Dean couldn't help the grunt that erupted from his throat when Castiel's grip tightened around him. The slick slide of Castiel's precum soaked hand reaching the base of his cock. He was going to have to get Cas in the Impala soon if he expected to make it last. Castiel wasn't stopping however, he was watching the reaction that his hand was having on Dean's emotional state. The features were easy to read and Castiel figured he was doing it correctly. Opening his mouth he leaned forwards and whispered in Dean's ear, “Am I pleasing you? The way I'm stroking your cock? Do you want to just throw me on my back and fuck my brains out?” his voice ended on a purr, his tongue licking a wet line down Dean's throat and lapping up the few drops of sweat he discovered.

Dean's eyes opened hazily as if he had just woken up in a dream world because that is the only place he has ever imagined Castiel having such a dirty mouth. Instead of offering a verbal response Dean canted his hips to further the grasp of Cas' hand on his dick and latched his lips onto those of his angel biting and sucking at his lower lip. Castiel groaned, stroking Dean harder and faster with his fingers. Breaking the kiss, Castiel smiled at Dean, “I almost want you to come apart. I want to be the one to make you shatter into a thousand pieces. But more than that, Dean. I want you to make love with me.”

“Looks like you're in luck, that's just what I planned to do.” Dean smiled and toed out of his boots before stepping out of the denim as it puddled around his feet. Castiel kicked his shoes and pants off and stood there naked in the silvery light of the moon. Dean reached for the handle of the door and eased it open. Dean then pulled Castiel to him and kissed him tenderly, listening to Castiel's soft mewls. Dean gently pushed the angel onto the cool leather of the backseat which made Castiel shiver with the contrast from the heat of his body. Dean stood in the doorway of the Impala gazing down at Castiel and the words of sexy, gorgeous, beautiful . . . things he'd never thought he'd be thinking about a man but it was the only thing he could use to describe the celestial being beneath him.

Dean crawled into the backseat and lay down atop Castiel. Their lips meeting in a kiss that made Castiel's grace flare within him. Castiel's arms came up and wrapped around Dean's back, hands sliding down to grip that taut ass and knead it for a few moments. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel as best he could, their tongues sliding together in a dance of passion. His hips moved slowly and rhythmically against Castiel's their cocks rubbing together. Castiel looked up at Dean, his eyes blown wide as the kiss was broken between them but only for a few moments. Wanting to show Castiel exactly how treasured he was, Dean slid down the angel's form, his tongue circling Castiel's nipples even as his hands traversed his angel's sides until his thumbs once again stroked his hipbones. “Cas, roll over for me, angel.”

Castiel did. Maneuvering his body in the backseat so that he lay on his stomach before Dean. He resisted the urge to rut against the leather, but it provided his body some friction and sent bolts of pleasure straight through his cock to the core of his being. Dean slowly drew Castiel up a bit, but kept his back bent forwards. Spitting into his palm, he stroked his cock a few times to get it nice and hard before pressing it against Castiel's twitching orifice. Dean pushed down on the small of Castiel's back even as the angel squirmed deliciously. Dean entered his angel with a steady stroke and the heat of Castiel surrounding him made him groan.

Dean kept his strokes deliberately slow, this was not about the rough fuck. This was about love and showing his angel how he truly felt deep in his heart. He may not be able to ever say the words but he would be damned if he couldn't show Castiel. Dean's hands were not idle, stroking the ridges where Castiel's wings would emerge from causing the angel to shudder and cry out beneath him. “Like that, angel?”

“Uhuh.” Castiel managed in a sinful moan. Dean kept his right hand where it was, his left moving to tangle in Cas' perpetually mussed locks and pulled him further up. Castiel suddenly found himself on his knees with Dean still taking his time with each and every thrust of his hips. Castiel's head rested on Dean's shoulder as Dean made love to him. He turned his head. So they could share a breath or two, or three before he kissed the demonic hunter behind him. Dean's cock was throbbing with need. The urge to pound into his angelic lover overwhelming. It was ecstasy and torture all at once. Reaching for his now neglected cock, Castiel whimpered as it was smacked by Dean's hand. “Dean?”

“No, Cas. That is mine.” Dean remarked, his right hand curling around Castiel's cock and giving it a lazy stroke. Dean placed gentle kisses along the side of Castiel's throat, listening to the soft sounds that left it. His hand left the angel's cock and gripped the slender hips, sending his cock deeper in that tight clenching channel. Quiet slapping sounds, breathy cries and whimpers of ecstasy filled the Impala and to Dean it was better than any classic rock song. “Look at you, angel. Taking my cock so deep.”

“Dean,” Castiel whispered so softly it was almost a prayer, “please,”

“This is all about you, angel.” Dean replied. Hands sliding up Cas' chest and giving him a push forwards. Castiel braced his hands on the rear driver side window frame, his fingers digging into the leather. Dean pinched his nipples and continued the slow thrusts. “I just want you to feel me, Cas.” Castiel's head lolled forwards, exposing the back of his neck and he ground his hips backwards. His grace flared within him, straining to reach the Hunter behind him. Without warning, Dean pulled completely out of Castiel's body. When Castiel turned his head to ask why, Dean shook his head and turned him around, spreading Cas' on the seat once more this time on his back.

Dean worshiped Castiel's body. With his fingertips. His lips and then his tongue before sliding back inside him. Castiel had leaned up and caught Dean's mouth with his own, nipping hard at the lower lip before soothing it with a sultry swipe of his tongue. Dean returned that kiss, his tongue plunging between the chapped lips and into Castiel's mouth chasing that wickedly sweet muscle. Bracing his hands on either side of Castiel's head, his thrusts became quicker but still taking the time to give as well as take with each movement of his hips.

Reaching up with his right hand, Castiel's fingers curled around the mark that had long since faded but he knew where it was. His left hand was buried in Dean's hair, trying to keep him closer. Dean had a moment of clarity in the white hot haze of ecstasy that washed through him at Castiel's touch. He changed the angle of his thrusts slightly aiming for the tiny bundle of nerves which caused Castiel to shake, writhe and beg beneath him. It was one of the most perfect things that Dean had ever seen. He was relentless in the prodding of Castiel's prostate and the moment that the angel reached down to stroke his own cock, Dean growled low and took his hand pinning it against the leather seat of the Impala. “No, mine.” If it was the last thing he did, he was going to make Castiel come by his cock alone.

Groaning in frustration, Castiel writhed beneath Dean's body. His hand was pinned above his head, he took the chance and twined their fingers together. Palms pressed together, Dean opened his eyes to look down at the angel beneath his body. Castiel's face was flushed. His lips swollen from Dean's kisses, his hair was sticking to his forehead but none of that mattered to Dean. All he could see was the love, trust and loyalty that was unwavering in the blue eyes of his angel. “Dean,” was all Castiel could manage to say. Wrapping his other leg around Dean's waist, he locked his ankles at the small of his back arching his back pulling Dean deeper.

Dean bit his lip as he sped up the pace of his thrusts slightly, just enough to push Castiel into a frenzy of begging and pleading for more. He knew it would not be long until they were both at the end of their restraint but one please just wasn't enough. Dean needed to know that Cas knew, that no matter what the angel asked of him, he'd comply. He always belonged to the angel he'd just never figured out how to say it. And if he kept up the pace of the well timed thrusts, he would be completely undone in a matter of moments. “Come on, Cas. Say it.”

Castiel bucked beneath Dean, his senses on overload. The first time they had done this, was all about power, domination. This time it was sweeter, more passionate. His body was begging shamelessly and Castiel no longer cared. His grace was resonating in his body, like molten lava rushing through the Earth, threatening to explode with the force of a supernova. Castiel's blue eyes locked onto Dean's green ones as he spoke one single word, “Yours.”

That was all it took, the declaration that Dean had been waiting for and his body melted into a stream of gentle kisses and skin slapping thrusts. His hips jerked faster and rougher but with every ounce of love and respect he could show his angel without using any words. “Mine.” he claimed as he bit the juncture of Cas' neck where it met his shoulder while driving deeper into him.

Castiel writhed harder beneath the onslaught of Dean's kisses. With each one he could feel how Dean was feeling as though it were seared into his body. Castiel screamed when those teeth sank into the side of his neck the skin breaking under Dean's bite. A bit of the grace that made Castiel who and what he was seeping into Dean's mouth which he swallowed without thinking clearly. The sensation of Dean's teeth in his flesh, and that one word . . . Dean claiming him, echoed in his brain. The grace Dean swallowed twisted within him, making his body respond with spastic jerks of his hips into the angel beneath him. Castiel's grip on his bicep where he raised him all those years ago, flooding him with sensation.

The Impala sat in the center of the grassy field, her windows fogged up. Clothes scattered around her sleek black chassis which glowed beneath the light of the full moon. Suddenly the interior began to glow a bright shade. Pure white light emanated out of the windows, cutting through the darkness like the beacon of a lighthouse. Castiel came, the thick white streams coating his chest. Dean following milliseconds after his angel, his release filling Castiel. The windows of the Impala exploded with the power of grace, as the two lovers lay there tangled together in the backseat.

Dean's breath was ragged, his face buried in the side of Castiel's neck where he had bitten him. The skin was healing rapidly, and soon it was like it had never been there. It drove Dean wild that he could feel the instant response his angel had to the word that he'd growled and he would always remember the way it felt to know it was what had driven Castiel over the edge. Castiel lay there beneath Dean, trying to catch his breath. “Dean?” he questioned softly, “will it always be like this between us?” he peppered kisses along Dean's jaw line between words.

“As long as you want it to be, Cas.” he replied, trying to will his breath to even out as he pulled the angel closer. There really wasn't enough room to really stay there, but Dean was damned if he didn't enjoy it while it lasted. Castiel's fingers were gently carding through his short locks and Dean was practically purring at the gentleness his angel was expressing. “Cas, I . . .”

Castiel pressed his lips to Dean's murmuring, “I know, Dean.”

“Did we blow out the windows?”

“Mhm.” Castiel responded as he pulled Dean closer to his body.

“Fuck, guess I'll have to replace them.”

“Will you show me?”

“Sure thing, angel.” Dean said. Gathering their clothes, both of them dressed and climbed into the front seat. Dean started up the Impala, the vehicle’s engine roaring then settling into a low purr. While the car idled in the grassy field, Dean’s phone rang and he picked it up off the seat, “Yeah Sammy?” He flicked his gaze over to Castiel who was sitting quietly, “mm, I think I met them. Young women you said? Yeah, one of them drugged my drink.”

Castiel was listening though he had gotten a good glimpse of the one that had been fighting with Dean. The other, he hadn’t sensed a second one so either that particular one was really good at hiding her nature or not there. “are you sure there were two of them, Dean?”

Dean nodded then resumed speaking into the phone, “Yeah, Sam. We’ll be there shortly.”

 

~*~


	25. A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

 

Sam was organizing his notes on what he had discovered with the Strix along with the autopsy photos and reports when he heard the familiar rumble of the Impala pulling up. Rising from the chair, Sam walked over to the door and opened it, leaning on the jamb watching as the two of them climbed out. “You okay, Dean?”

“Yeah, the drug, whatever it was, didn’t work.”

“Belladonna.” Was Sam’s response as he picked up the autopsy reports. “According to the toxicology reports, they were all dosed with it. Lethal amounts.” Sam continued, “if they are the strix, they’re shifters.”

“so, silver bullets,” Dean started, “or a silver blade to the heart.” Castiel leaned against the fireplace, his eyes were closed as he was stretching his senses. “What about the mythology?” Dean queried.

Sam turned to his laptop, “Well the earliest tale is from the Ornithologia of Boios. They take after Lycaon, the apparent father of all Werewolves.” He looked at his notes, “they eat the flesh of men, however, their preferred meal,” he paused, clearing his throat, “are children and babies.”

“Its the little things that count.”

That made a light bulb go off in Sam’s brain, “Cas, feel up to being bait?”

“Hell no.”

“It’s all right Dean. I can do this for you.”

“No! I won’t risk losing you, we’ll find another way.” Dean said as he crossed the room to stand next to his angel.

Sam watched as Dean took Castiel’s hand in his own and their fingers threaded together a slow grin covering his lips. They do look good together. Sam thought as he looked down at his laptop trying to give them some notion of privacy.

“I will return shortly.” Castiel said, pausing as Dean reaches over and cups his cheek, “Dean?”

“Be careful, Cas.” he whispered, leaning in and kissing him softly.

“I will.” he said before vanishing in a backwash of wind and wing beats.

“So, no you and Cas, Dean?”

Dean fought the blush that rose to his cheeks, “shut it, bitch.”

 

~*~


	26. The Oregon Caves, Oregon

The Oregon Caves off the River Styx

 

Castiel landed somewhere in the labyrinth of caves. He stood there, his angel blade manifesting in his hand his eyes adjusting to the low lighting. Off in the distance was a flickering light. He could faintly hear voices coming from that direction. “No, for once in your life; you will listen to me! We have to leave and soon. They will find us. They will kill us. It is what they do!” Ravyn was saying while moving about the cavern and tossing their things haphazardly into a duffel bag.

Zirena sighed. She knelt quietly on the ground and started to roll up their sleeping pads. “I think we should go to them and tell them why we do what it is that we do. Everyone has the right to do what they must to survive.”

Ravyn whipped around and turned on her sister, her eyes narrowed. “You think they will understand that I kill people to feed you? I protect you. I do everything for you. This is the ONE time I ask you to do something for me. Pack up and leave with no questions, and you want to sit here and argue with me.”

Castiel moved into the main cavern invisible to the two women, Zirena stiffened slightly then shook her head, “I’m not arguing with you, I just don’t understand why we can’t talk to them.”

“They won’t listen to us, Zirena. We either need to kill them or get out of here now.”

The younger strix shook her head. “I’m tired of running, big sister. I want to make a home.”

“We can NEVER have a home!” She hissed, then paused. Her entire body stiffening. “Wait, someone’s here…” Zirena got to her feet gingerly glancing around. Wings sprouted from Ravyn’s back, the mottled plumage almost beautiful in the firelight. Her fingers became sharpened talons. Fangs took the place of her teeth and her nose morphed into a beak. Ravyn stared into the various shadows, chirps leaving her mouth telling Zirena to stay where she was. Her eyes bled into obsidian pools. “Come out, I won’t bite . . . hard.” she purred.

Castiel materialized before them stepping from the shadows that he had been ensconced within. “I'm not going to harm you.”

“The blade in your hand speaks volumes where your words betray the lie on your tongue.” Ravyn snarled. Clear strands of saliva thick and viscous dripped from her fangs. “What are you? You're not the demon I faced earlier. Nor are you the hunter that was with him.” She advanced a single step towards him; her booted feet leaving imprints in the dirt. “I won't ask you again, who are you?”

“I am Castiel.” he responded. “As for what I am . . .” his wings unfurled from behind him, through the material of his trench coat. The color of the feathers had changed. Nearly all his wings were ebony black, the only splash of color that remained were at the tip of the primary and secondary feathers those were a dark gray, very quickly turning the same shade of black. “I am a warrior.”

“A dead one.” Ravyn quipped, leaping at Castiel her claws extended.

 

~*~


	27. A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

 

The brothers were sifting through the rest of the reports, with Dean actually studying the photos of the various crime scenes. “Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“What good am I now? I mean you're a demon. I'm just . . . well, I'm . . .”

“A Gigantor?” Dean retorted, with a grin on his lips.

“Very funny, short stack. No, I mean I'm only human, Dean. What good am I really?” Sam asked. Dean put the reports he was reading down and stared at his brother. “You said you were proud of us, right before you died. I mean is there an us anymore Dean?”

Dean sighed, “You know. We've always been one hell of a team, Sam. I've always been proud of you. We kept each other human in the hunt. The lifestyle. You are the best part of me, the only family I have left and I cannot lose you. Not now. Not ever. I know at some point I have to let you go, Sammy. But I'm not ready, not by a long shot.” He lifted a bottle of beer off the table and held it out to Sam. “Well always be brothers, come hell or high water.”

Sam nodded with a smile on his lips as he clinked his bottle to his brother's. “Come hell or high water.” Sam then lifted the brown glass bottle and took a healthy swallow, only to notice that Dean wasn't drinking his. “Dean?” Dean had lifted the bottle halfway to his mouth when he paused. Something was nagging at him, a sensation in the back of his skull. He turned his head slightly as though he heard something. “What is it?”

“I'm not sure.”

“Well what does it feel like?”

“You know that feeling when your foot falls asleep?” Dean paused watching as Sam nodded, “feels like that. But its sharper, more pronounced.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, “ah, its probably nothing.” he finished taking a swallow of the beer that he held in his hand. Picking up one of the autopsy reports he started looking once more.

“Dean, about you and Cas,” Sam started. Dean opened his mouth to interrupt, “and don't say there is no you and Cas. I have eyes, Dean.” Dean promptly shut his mouth, giving a little grunt and it made Sam smile slightly, “It makes sense and I'm happy for you. You know, Cas and I were talking and he said that you two were soul mates.”

Dean snorted at that, “you mean fated to be together, you know I don't believe in that bullshit Sam.” Outwardly it was what Dean thought though inwardly he wasn't sure. There was something about Castiel that drew him in like a bee to honey. Dean had never had a relationship like the one he had with the angel. Dean could be himself, he didn't have to hide anything. Unlike with Lisa who had no idea what he did in his spare time until she had gotten caught up in it, he had even gone so far as to ask Castiel to wipe her memory of him so that she and her son would be safe.

“All I said. Was that it made,” Sam's voice trailed off. Dean was once more staring off into space but this time his eyes had bled to obsidian. “Dean?”

The sensation was now growing in the back of Dean's mind. Dean was so focused on it now, he could almost see it. It appeared to be a granule of white light interlaced with cobalt blue and it was pulsating in a frantic rhythm. “We need to go, Sam. Right now.” Dean remarked, pushing himself out of the chair and heading for his room in order to retrieve the First Blade.

Sam scrambled to his feet, which was rather amusing to watch considering how he was sprawled in the chair at the table. “What's wrong? Where are we going?” He inquired, grabbing the 9mm off of the table and moving to intercept his brother who had a look in his eyes. Sam knew that look, it was the 'don't fuck with me' gaze that was on his brother's face more often than usual.

“I'm not sure.” Dean responded. Reaching out blindly, he grabbed Sam's wrist in his hand and they vanished from the interior of the cabin.

 

~*~


	28. The Oregon Caves, Oregon

The Oregon Caves

 

The scene that Sam and Dean faced when they landed was not one they saw very often. Castiel was on the ground, with a snarling woman straddling his hips. He had both her wrists gripped in his hands and was holding her back. There were small gashes in Castiel's face from where Ravyn had apparently darted in and made contact with her beak. Castiel wasn't fighting back though, it was if he was holding back for some reason. “CAS!” Dean shouted. “Sam, take care of that one.” he gestured in Zirena's direction. Sam turned and saw the girl cowering in the corner, drawing the gun from the small of his back he aimed it at her only to have her look up, her amber colored eyes widening fractionally then closing quickly and it was then that Sam realized she was praying. Upon hearing his name Castiel tilted his head backwards, straining to look at him. The movement exposed his throat and Ravyn wasted no time pushing against him and opening a gash, it was deep enough that Castiel's grace was visible. His blue eyes went wide, and his lips formed Dean's name.

Zirena was cringing, her form curling into the fetal position. “I just want to go home.” she whispered up at Sam opening her eyes. “Please.” Sam hesitated and lowered the gun, still staring at her.

Dean saw red at that point even behind the obsidian that his eyes had become. With a roar, he ran at Ravyn and tackled her off of Castiel's body. His fist repeatedly coming down into her macabre looking features. The feathers were receding back into her body, and soon she looked as she did when Dean met her in the bar. “Dean, enough!” Castiel said, he was gingerly getting to his feet holding the side of his neck where she had sliced into his skin. “Dean!”

Dean wasn't hearing anything but the rush of blood in his ears. His vision was hazy with the need to spill her blood just for touching Castiel. He was sitting on her stomach, using his legs to pin her own down so she couldn't kick out at him and throw him off. Ravyn was looking up at him, one eye swollen shut. “I'll kill you,” she whispered, blood bubbling from her lips, “I should have killed that angel when I had the chance.” His lips curled into a demonic snarl. His left hand snapped out closing around her throat, choking her. Ravyn's hands came up grasping at his forearm which wasn't moving an inch. Her claws digging and drawing furrows that bled heavily. Rivulets of thick blood dripped down his forearm. “I would . . .” she tried to speak between taking huge gasps of air, “have done more . . . than that.” She panted. Dean refused to relent his hold on her, “I would have stripped . . . his flesh to the bone. . .”

Dean was lost in a blood lust that threatened to consume him, he raised the First Blade his intention clear on burying the blade to the hilt in her chest. “you touched MY angel.” Castiel knew that he was losing Dean to the demon that resided within his soul, and called his name one last time. Dean ignored it and plunged the blade into her chest, pushing it through her breastbone in one powerful thrust.

Zirena screamed, scrambling to her feet. Shoving Sam out of her way, she stumbled towards Dean and tackled him off of her sister who lay there, blood burbling out of her mouth. “Ravyn? Ravyn! Don't leave me!” She cried out, as tears fell from her eyes, “Please, you're all I have!” Ravyn gave her a trembling smile, even while she reached up and caressed her sister’s cheek then closed her eyes. Ravyn’s body began to glow, the body disintegrating leaving a small owl in its wake. “No, no, no, no, no!” Zirena sobbed cradling the owl to her chest.

Dean rolled to his feet, as he advanced on Zirena intent on cutting out her heart. Both Cas and Sam intercept him each of them grabbing an arm trying to restrain him. Dean’s eyes were a solid black. His body language screamed that he wanted to kill something else and Zirena was a convenient target. “Dean, calm down.” Sam said, Dean had been strong before but now . . . Dean was something else entirely and it made Sam wonder if he and Cas would be able to hold him.

“She didn’t do anything, Dean. It was Ravyn who killed to protect and feed her sister. She is innocent, would you kill an innocent?” 

Sam had a revelation in that short statement of Castiel. “She’s like me, Dean. She looked up to Ravyn and now she’s alone.” He paused gathering his thoughts, “that demon asked if you could ever kill me, and you said no. She’s me, Dean!” 

“She is NOT you, Sammy! She’s a killer!”

“So are you, does that mean she doesn’t have the right to live?”

The Blade still clutched in Dean’s hand slowly lowered, “that was a low blow, Sammy. We hunt, we save people, its the family business.”

“And we don’t kill innocents!” Sam responded, moving to stand protectively before Zirena. “And I won’t let you kill her.”

“You can’t stop me, Sam.”

“I can, Dean.”

“You ain’t innocent either, Cas.” Castiel felt the heat rising in his cheeks, knowing that Dean was correct in that. But that wasn’t going to stop him from trying to keep Zirena alive. Dean moved and Castiel blocked him, “Cas, get out of my way!” 

“No.” 

A bright flash of gold announced the arrival of something, the backlash of power sending Dean in one direction, Castiel in another. Both the angel and the demon slamming into stalagmites cracking the stone before they slumped to the ground. Sam aimed the pistol at the figure, thumb-racking the slide. He was not sure of the intentions of the newcomer. It wasn’t a demon, they were not nearly that flashy. Sam knew that it wasn’t an angel either, as they had a tendency to just appear. But who this was, was an enigma and Sam was going to protect the one innocent in the room.

 

~*~

 

The woman who materialized from the golden power was slender, petite. Her gaze drifted over the caverns as she was facing away from Sam, but turned in his direction and took a single step forward. Sam instantly got in her path, the gun never wavering. “Don’t.”

“I will not hurt her.” Her voice was as soft as silk.

Sam looked skeptical though the power in her voice, soft though it was washed over him reassuringly. “Who are you?” He demanded, his hazel eyes narrowing. Her golden colored eyes were warm, filled with a mystical power that Sam had only seen once or twice in his lifetime. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing her face in soft strands. Sam took in her clothes. Black jeans hugged her legs, a matching tank top caressed her lush breasts. There was a tattoo of an owl on her bicep, and it matched the silver pendant that rested on her clavicle.

Dean and Castiel were both stirring from where they had fallen. Dean was on his feet first, and he started towards the woman that had thrown him aside. “Do not, Dean Winchester.” She said, not even turning her head.

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, knowing exactly who and what she was just by taking in her appearance. Sam was silent flicking the safety back on the gun still gripped in his hand. He stepped aside to let her pass and moved to where Dean and Castiel were. “I know who you are.”

“And I know of you, Castiel.” She knelt by Zirena and placed a gentle hand on the girls’ still shaking shoulder. “I will take her home.”

“Home? You’ll take me home?” Zirena inquired softly, lower lip quivering.

“Yes, Zirena. I will take you home where you will be safe.” She got to her feet and turned to face the trio that were standing quietly watching the interchange. “I will care for her. She will not be a concern to you or any other hunters again.” Dean snorted, “you know, Dean, you can still be a good man . . . you have something she does not. You have your family at your side.” Reaching down, she touched Zirena’s shoulder and teleported her out of the cavern, along with the owl that was Ravyn.

“Now what?”

“I need to speak with you, alone.” Castiel said to Dean. His voice was clipped. Almost angry.

“I will return Sam to the cabin.” the woman responded, as she stepped forwards and stood at Sam’s side. It was then that Sam realized how tiny she truly was. He towered over her by a foot, but she stood next to him trustingly.

“No, I don’t want you alone with my brother.”

“Dean, Sam will be fine with her.” Castiel said as he nodded in her direction. The expression on his face of course was one of ‘if you harm a hair on his head, I will find a way to smite you.’. She returned the nod, a gentle smile on her face acknowledging his threat though it was not needed.

Taking a deep breath, Dean nodded watching as she placed her hand on Sam’s shoulder and both of them vanishing in a flash of golden light. Alone, Dean glanced over at Castiel, “what did we need to talk about, Cas?”

“It was fortunate that she intervened. I did not wish for you to kill the girl. Like it or not, she was innocent.”

“No one is innocent Cas. Not even you. I corrupted you.” 

“No, Dean. You didn’t corrupt me.” Castiel sighed, and sat down on a rock. “This is going to be difficult to explain.”

“Try me, Cas.” Dean settled on the rock next to him.

 

~*~


	29. A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

 

Sam and the goddess arrived at the cabin. Sam watching her as she walked around, taking in everything. Her golden eyes not missing much and suddenly he had the urge to run around and pick up all the dirty articles of clothing that both he and Dean had left strewn about. “Can I um, offer you something to drink?” He inquired, trying to distract her.

Her fingertips trailed over the table where the photos were still laid out in plain view. “No thank you. I do want to thank you, for saving Zirena. For protecting her.” The goddess said, making her way around the cabin before she sat down in a chair crossing her denim clad legs at the knee. 

Retrieving a beer from the fridge, Sam sat across from her, “It was the right thing to do.” He said taking a swallow of the amber colored liquid. 

She observed him golden eyes warm, “You worry about him,” She paused a moment, “your brother.”

“Yeah, is it that obvious?”

She nodded, “your brother is a demon. He is with the angel. and you are only mortal.”

Sam sighed heavily taking another swallow of his beer, “yeah, I’m the weak link of the trio.”

Making a soft clucking sound with her tongue she rose gracefully from the chair, “What is it that you wish?”

“What?” Sam asked blinking owlishly.

“If I were to grant you one wish, what would it be?” She inquired, moving and perching herself on the table next to him taking his larger hand in her small one. “What would you want for protecting Zirena?” Sam swallowed as she sat next to him and took his hand. Watching while she interlocked their fingers. He shook his head, hair falling into his eyes. “There is nothing you would want?” The goddess pressed, again there was a shake in the negative. “Very well. But one day, when the time is right, you will know and be with your brother.” Like the pixie she was, she hopped off the table and looked at him.

“I don’t understand.”

With another one of those soft smiles and warm golden gazes she leaned over caressing his cheek with her lips. “You will Samuel Winchester.” Stepping back then she vanished in a gold flash of light. Sam reached up, his fingertips lingering where the goddess had kissed him. Staring at the space that she had occupied not moments ago, picturing her there in all her glory.

 

~*~


	30. The Oregon Caves, Oregon

The Oregon Caves

 

Dean was sitting next to Castiel on the rock deep within the caverns, his forearms resting on his knees. “What you’re telling me, is that we were meant to be together?” Castiel nodded, “What’s that mean, Cas?”

“It means many things, Dean. One that I can find you without you having to pray to me.”

“Like when those dickheads jumped me and you just showed up.”

“Yes, I sensed your pain.”

A sigh left his lips as he realized that it was how he knew Castiel was in trouble. “And I can sense yours.”

Castiel nodded. “When I rescued you in Hell, and brought your soul to heaven. Kitoel, the one who controls the sacred pool said she saw something in your soul.”

“What? What did she see?”Dean asked, suddenly afraid that this Kitoel had seen something awful.

“Me. Or rather my grace, it was a part of you.” Castiel replied.

“Part of me, huh?” Dean looked thoughtful, “from when?”

“From when I touched you in Hell, Dean.” Castiel placed his hand on the mark that had faded long ago. “It was my grace that left the mark.”

“The hand print? You mean you groped me?”

Castiel hung his head and and the decency to look ashamed, “I apologize for that, Dean.”

Dean shook his head and laughed, “damn, means I owe Sammy ten bucks.” Castiel flushed, and Dean reached over to tilt his head up, so he could look into those fathomless blue eyes. “but now, I don’t mind it so much.” He ran a hand through his military short hairstyle. “I need you, Cas.”

“I know, Dean.” Castiel responded, his eyes sad. “but for now I need to go.”

“You’ll be back?”

“Yes.” Castiel gave him a smile that would have lit up Broadway and vanished in a rustle of wings.

 

~*~


	31. A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

A Cabin in the Redwood National Forest

 

Dean arrived back at the cabin where Sam was packing their things. “You okay, Sammy?” His eyes darting this way and that looking for the goddess. He still didn't trust them, not as far as he could throw them. Now that he was a demon, he could probably throw one further than he could before.

“Yeah, we headed back to the bunker?” Sam’s eyes were haunted as though he were pondering things and for the life of him Dean could not figure out what it was. “Where’s Cas?”

Dean chuckled, “You know Cas, he had angelic things to do.” Grabbing his duffel by the handles he tossed it over his shoulder and headed to the Impala. He flicked his gaze up towards the stars and took a deep breath letting it out on a sigh. _Be careful, Cas and come back to me in one piece_. He thought, and he could almost feel something brush at the back of his mind. Reassurance. Placing the bag in the trunk, he waited for Sam.

Sam stumbled out of the cabin a few moments later, carrying his bag. It joined Dean’s in the trunk before he climbed in shotgun. “Uh, Dean?” Noting that it was rather chilly in the interior.

“Yeah?”

Sam pushed his hand through where the windshield had been. “what happened?”

“Uh,” Dean paused trying to figure out a good excuse. "Well,"

Sam's eyes widened, blinking rapidly. _Brain bleach! I need brain bleach!_ Sam thought to himself as the image of Castiel and Dean locked in sexual combat in the backseat seared his braincells. "No! I'm sorry I asked! I don't want to know! Seriously!" 

"Are you sure? I mean it was pretty . . ." Dean's voice trailed off as he glanced over at Sam who had just jammed his fingers in his ears.

"La la la! Can't hear you, Dean!"

Dean started to laugh. The Impala's engine growled. Gravel sprayed beneath the wheels. The monster of a car pulled out of the drive and headed down the road to the entrance of the park. They had done their job, and now it was time to get out of dodge. The brothers took one last look around, before the Impala sped off into the night.

 

~*~


	32. Lebanon, Kansas

Lebanon, Kansas

 

They had arrived back at the bunker and were taking a well-deserved break for a few days. Dean however was worried about his brother. Ever since that woman had shown up, Sam had been very quiet. Usually the younger of the two Winchester Brothers would want to talk about his feelings but this time, Sam had remained tight lipped. Dean spent his days in the garage repairing the windows on the Impala, while pondering various things. Sam, on the other hand was researching on his laptop. He was studying owls and the deities who ruled them. That night it was quiet. Dean and Sam met in the library, each one of them taking up an entire table.

Dean had laid out most of the pistols from the trunk of the Impala. Each one was laid on a small towel and Sam actually stopped typing for a few minutes to watch his brother work. Without breaking stride, Dean moved down the line of towels field stripping each weapon and placing the parts down. He was whistling Ramble On by Led Zeppelin, his fingers moving methodically with the cleaning fluid. Sam watched, entranced. It was obvious that Dean was the soldier of their dynamic duo. “Sam, if you're gonna keep staring at me, I'm gonna make you help.”

Laughing, Sam shook his head. “Hand me the Beretta.” he moved from where he had been sitting to a space across from Dean, who was holding out the handgun butt first. Taking it from Dean he hefted it in his hand for a long moment before he picked up the cleaning supplies. The two brothers worked in silence. Quiet clicks while the guns were put back together in perfect working order.

“So, who was she?”

“Who was who?”

“The woman from the cavern.”

“Zirena?”

“No. Golden Girl. She knew my name. She knew yours. And she knew Cas.”

“That's cause she's a goddess Dean.” Sam said. He set the Beretta back down on the towel and leaned back in the chair.

Dean scowled, “Don't suppose you know which Goddess?”

Sam ran a hand through his hair, “from what research I did, I think it may have been Athena.”

“Athena,” Dean spoke, waving his hand for Sam to continue, “and what makes you think that?”

“She was the goddess of wisdom in Greek Mythos. The virgin patron of Athens.”

“Virgin huh? You planning on hitting that, Sammy?”

Sam frowned deeply, “No!” though he had in fact at one point after she had kissed him thought about it, but it had been brief. She was a goddess after all, and he was just a mortal man. “Anyway, her symbol is the owl.”

“Like the one that girl transformed into.”

“Exactly.” Sam replied. “You know, she asked me what I wanted for saving Zirena's life.”

“Oh yeah? What'd you ask for? Please tell me you asked for a million dollars and pie.”

“Actually...”

“Sammy. Please, tell me you asked her for a lifetime supply of pie!”

“I didn't ask her for anything.” He replied, “but something she said has me thinking.” 

Sam watched Dean rise from the chair and head into the kitchen for two beers. Twisting the caps off both, he handed Sam one of them. “So, what did Archimedes have to say then?”

“Athena.” 

“Whatever.” 

“She said that one day I'd have a choice to stay with you.” Sam spoke, gauging his brother's reaction 

Dean looked thoughtful. Taking a healthy pull from the bottle, he started to speak. “you know something, Sammy. A wise man once said, you can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love.”

Sam frowned, “Dean.”

“Yeah?” 

“That's from the Notebook.”

“Shut up.” Dean countered, “what I meant is, you have to do what you need to do. Don't do it just for me. It would hurt like fucking hell to lose you . . . but the choice, should be and is yours.”

“Thanks Dean. That . . . that means a lot.” Sam replied, “so, can I ask about you and Castiel? Or is that still a sore subject?”

“What do you wanna know, Sam?”

“Do you love him?” Sam asked.

“I have to go.” he responded, as a tingling sensation pulled at him.

“Dean, answer my question. Do you love him?'

“I'll be back soon.” Dean said. Sam blinked and in the time it took him to do that, Dean was gone.

 

~*~


	33. Juneau, Alaska

Juneau, Alaska 

 

The Mendenhall Glacier was his private retreat. A place of quiet where he could think. Water trickled over rocks making soft sounds in this otherworldly paradise his Father had created. The glacier was melting over time, but the walls were still pale to deep shades of blue. He stood facing a pool of water, simply watching the droplets when he heard the rustle of wings. “How did you find me, Hannah?” Castiel inquired.

Hannah stepped to stand next to him. “I searched for you.”

“What do you want?”

“Did you kill the demon?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Castiel turned and stared at Hannah. “I told you. Dean is my charge, Hannah. I will not kill him.”

Shaking her long brown hair, she glared at him. “I gave you an order, Castiel!” She would never admit to anyone that she had subconsciously placed the subliminal message in his head using her powers to kill the demon that had once been Dean Winchester. Somehow he had overthrown her orders. It may have been part of the fact that he was not a normal angel but a seraph.

Castiel pondered that. Orders. Naomi had given him orders, had even accused him of having a crack in his chassis. Maybe he was created wrong. But would his Father have made such a mistake? “I chose not to follow it.”

“Free will.” She scowled, “Let me tell you something about free will, Castiel. All that are in Hell, chose it. Without that self-choice there could be no Hell. Would you go to Hell for him, Castiel? Would you risk all for this one demon?” Hannah inquired.

“Yes,” Castiel replied, his voice a monotone. He turned just then to face her. His eyes were filled with a quiet fury. “I would.” Taking a step in her direction, Hannah actually backed away. “You cannot kill Dean Winchester.”

Hannah shook her head, “we can, Castiel. And we will!”

Castiel shook his head sadly. “Then I will mourn your death, as I have mourned every death of our sisters and brothers.”

“Why do you think we cannot kill him, Castiel.”

“Because Hannah, Dean is not an ordinary demon. He is a Knight. And I am his Guardian.” Castiel gathered his thoughts, holding up a hand to prevent her from speaking before he said, “I'm done. I don't need anything more from Heaven. I have Dean, and that's enough.”

Her face softened slightly, a tear falling from her eyes, “Castiel,”

A dreamy look covered Castiel's face, “how do I describe it? He envelops me when he is close. There is a deep longing. Hunger. A hunger that cannot be quenched by a single kiss.” he sighed, “Dean makes me feel things I never knew existed, makes me want things. I know his body, I put it back together. He knows mine,”

Hannah gasped, “You shared carnal relations? With a demon?!” 

“There is a part of me that doesn't care if he ever tells me he loves me. I know what rests in his heart, in his soul,”

“His twisted demonic soul.” 

“Hannah. The first time I ever saw him, he was a child. When I found him in Hell, and he looked at me . . . I felt like I had found something I'd lost over a thousand years ago.” 

Hannah's shoulders trembled, shaking, as though she were struggling not to cry. “Castiel, you have fallen.”

“I have, Hannah.” Castiel whispered, “and it is worth it.”

“I feel sorry for you, Castiel. He will break your heart, and you can never come home again if this is what you choose.”

“This is what I choose. I choose humanity. I choose Dean Winchester.”

Straightening her shoulders, she stared at him. “Goodbye Castiel.”

“If we should meet again. I will end you.”

“We will not meet again.”

“For your sake. I hope not.” Castiel replied. He heard her wings and she was gone. Suddenly he was left alone in the cavern of ice and water. “Goodbye sister.” He stayed there a few more moments before he left the depths of the glacier.

 

~*~


	34. Unknown Location

Unknown Location

 

Dean arrived outside of Cain's cabin. Glancing around, he saw that things had changed since he had last been here. The white boxes. The beehives. That's what was different. It was quiet. Too quiet and Dean's senses went on high alert. He lifted his hand to knock but the door opened before his knuckles made contact. “Dean Winchester.” The Father of Murder stepped aside to let his fellow Knight of Hell through the door.

He made his way through the doorway and looked around. “You changed things around.”

“Yes. I have something for you.” Cain said. He headed to his small kitchen and found a large mason jar that was filled with a thick yellow substance. “For your friend.”

Dean accepted the jar of honey and actually smiled, “Thank you.” He then frowned as he turned the jar over in his hands. “I don't understand. He got me to break down the walls I've put up over the years. He got inside. And it scares the shit out of me, Cain.”

“You love him.”

“Yeah.”

“You can't help who you fall in love with, Dean.” Cain replied. “It sounds like your love for him is the same love I had for my wife.” Dean nodded, and Cain continued, “you can control the demon if you get rid of the Blade. You and I both know that it is indestructible, it was her dying wish that I get rid of the blade. I held up to that bargain.”

“What was it like to lose her?”

Cain's face became saddened, he remembered the day she had died in his arms vividly. “It wasn't fatal for me, Dean. Though I wish it had been. Life went on and I had no choice but to keep living. I took the hand that fate dealt, pressed forward . . . there was nothing else I could do. Without Colette, I felt empty. It's still there. A bottomless hole in my heart.”

“His name is Castiel.” Dean spoke, wanting Cain to know who he was speaking of. “he's an angel.”

“As was Colette.” He spoke, “I have one request, Dean.”

“What?”

“Would you take me back to my wife and bury me with her?”

“Yeah. I can do that.” He got to his feet. Cain rose and held out his hand. In the palm resting on the weathered skin was a key. “What's this?”

“The key to my cabin.” Cain spoke, “I want you to have it. I will have no need for it anymore.”

“Thank you. For everything.” Dean said. The First Blade manifested in his hand, the mark on his arm glowing faintly. They gripped forearms and Dean took a deep breath before he slid the blade home in the First Knight of Hell's torso. It was a vast difference from how he had slaughtered Abaddon like a pig. This was an ally he was killing. A friend. A Kindred Spirit. He deserved an honorable death.

Cain's eyes sparked yellow, his breath leaving his body in a quiet sigh. Sagging, Dean caught him in his arms before placing the body on the wooden slats which made up the floor of the cabin. He got to his feet, searching for something to wrap him in. Finding an old sheet, Dean reverently placed Cain upon it then slowly swathed him in the material. Lifting the body into his arms, Dean concentrated on the house he and Crowley had been in once.

The grave of Colette Mullen was not hard to find. The stone was weathered but Dean could make the words out. It bore her name, the date of her death and her age. Placing the sheet wrapped body of Cain down on the grass, he left it there momentarily to poke around in the house and find a shovel and a few other things. One that was procured, he returned to the side of her grave. Removing his leather jacket and the black button down shirt he was wearing he draped both over the low hanging branch of a nearby tree. Turning on his heel, Dean placed the edge of the shovel in the dirt and began to dig.

It took him an hour to get to the simple wooden coffin that Colette rested for eternity within. But this was unlike any coffin he had ever seen before. Dean tossed the shovel out of the hole he had made, sweeping his hands over the lid. On the oak lid which was inlaid with maple was an intricately carved flower. The same flower that rested upon her gravestone. The edges of the coffin were also carved with swirls in the wood that had taken care and time to do.

Dean ran his fingertips along the patterns and smiled. Cain had truly loved his wife to have made something this beautiful. With a groan, Dean lifted the lid. Colette's remains were there, a skeleton after so long. Dean reached up then and pulled Cain's body down, laying him next to his wife. Pulling out the First Blade, Dean set it in Cain's hand then replaced the lid. Climbing out of the grave, Dean replaced the sod. He spread the salt he had procured from the kitchen around the grave, even going so far as to sprinkle some over the top. He took one last look around before he replaced the shovel and the salt in the house before he vanished from the interior.

 

~*~


	35. New York City, New York

New York City, New York

 

It was late enough that no one was about. It was peaceful, lapping waves hitting the pillars the only sound. A single lamp illuminates the angel who stands there beneath it, hands resting on the weathered railing of the dock. His head was tilted upwards towards the sky, and he exhaled a deep breath. “I chose not to follow orders. I chose to cherish the life of Dean Winchester, not end it.”

Dean hissed in a breath from the shadows. He had honed in on that granule that was Castiel's grace and followed him here. He hadn't known that his angel was supposed to take his life. It did make sense though. He was a demon and who better than Castiel would be able to get close enough to kill him. But he hadn't and Dean had a feeling he knew why but he needed to hear Cas say it. “Why Cas?” He inquired stepping from the shadows.

Castiel turned and faced Dean. “Hello Dean.”

“Why didn't you kill me, Cas? If those were your orders.”

“I could not. I would not. It was my choice.”

“I got that, Cas. But I want to know why.”

“Because I love you.”

Dean's smile was genuine. It was one of those smiles that warmed Castiel to his toes. It was the smile that Castiel had seen in Purgatory. Dean had been filthy, covered in dirt, blood and other fluids he didn't want to contemplate. But the bright flash of Dean's teeth, standing out like stars against the darkness of his skin. “Cas,” Dean started then paused for a moment gathering his thoughts. “You made me fall in love and, fuck, I don't want to lose you. We could be so good together, Cas. Come home with me.”

Castiel needed no other prompting. It wasn't a declaration of undying love, but it was just that. Without Dean saying the words it all fell into place. Castiel closed his eyes, allowing the words to wash over him and opening his cobalt blue eyes, a single blood red tear traced its way over his cheek. “Yes.”

Dean crossed the space between them in one powerful stride. Reaching up he wiped away the tear, only to enfold Castiel in his arms. “I'm yours, Cas. I've always been yours.” Dean whispered huskily.

“Mine.” Castiel responded, his hand making contact with the space where he had left his mark oh so long ago. Dean sighed at the feeling of Castiel's grace inside him responding, his right hand resting at Castiel's waist. His own palm against the soft skin just above the hip bone. It seemed like time had come to a stop, there was nothing else but the demon and the angel. Castiel leaned up and kissed Dean, power flaring between them. 

Both men groaned as it grew in intensity. From smoldering embers to a full fledged inferno, it built higher and higher until it snapped. Castiel's shoulders trembled. Shuddered. Wings sprouting from his back, feathers pitch black with no other hint of color. “Cas,” Dean's voice held a tinge of amazement. “Your wings...” his voice trailed off. “I can see them.”

“Because we are bonded, Dean. We can be good together, Dean.” Castiel spoke, “And I'm ready to find out how good.”

“Awesome.”

“One thing, Dean.”

“What's that?”

“Can we go get pie?” Castiel inquired. Dean's laughter echoed into the night, as the unlikely pair who had found love watched the sun rise together over the horizon. “Dean?”

Dean was shaking his head, now trying to rein in his laughter. “We have forever to get pie.”

“Forever is a long time.”

“You've lived eons, Cas. What do you want to with forever?”

“The same thing one would do when you don't have forever, Dean.”

“And what's that?”

“Live.” He replied with a smile. “Live for tomorrow. Live for each other.”

Dean cupped Castiel's face in his hands and whispered against those chapped lips he loved so much, “I think . . . I can live with that.”

 

~*~


	36. Lebanon, Kansas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, its been a rough journey but a fun one. There is no sequel currently being written but you never know, I may write one out sooner or later. Thanks so much for the comments, and the Kudos, and yes, I wish they could give more kudos. So thank you to those who left comments and kudos. They were appreciated and loved!

Lebanon, Kansas

 

Sam returned the weapons to the trunk of the Impala and cleaned up in the library. He was wondering where Dean had gone off to but knew that his brother would possibly tell him upon his return. He ate a quiet meal alone while he pondered what he was going to do now. He couldn't leave Dean. Whether the older Winchester knew it or not, he would need his younger brother. Sure, one could argue that he had Castiel. And the angel was no slouch in any department, but they were first and foremost family. That would never change. It never had no matter who came in and out of their lives. 

He remembered when Dean had told him that he had Castiel erase Lisa and Ben Braden's memories of him so they would be safe. At first Sam had thought it was cruel to do such a thing but realized later that it probably had been for the best. They had been a family unit. Father. Mother. Son. Sam had known how hard it was for Dean to talk about it and it took Dean's threat of breaking his nose to get him to drop it. Sam had watched Dean fall apart after leaving the hospital, watched him break as his apple pie life went to hell in a hand-basket.

Sam wondered if he would ever have that kind of life. Away from the hunting. With a family to call his own, it made him think about Jessica. Sarah. Madison. Amy. All the women he had lost over the years, to the lifestyle that he led. Just once, Sam wanted to meet someone he could love, who would stand by him and accept him for all that he was. Jessica hadn't even known about his hunting life. He had kept her in the dark about it and it had gotten her killed.

It made him think about Dean and Castiel. He was envious of the couple. But not about to resent Dean the happiness he found. With a heavy sigh, Sam cleaned his dishes before heading towards his bedroom. Pushing open the door, he paused at the sight that greeted him. There were small . . . somethings on his desk. Walking over, he glanced around trying to deduce where it had come from. There was no scent of sulfur in the room so a demon was not the culprit. Maybe Dean left it, but then again Dean wasn't that thoughtful.

Peering down at the desk, he discovered a small scroll tied with a ribbon and a hand carved owl. It was five inches in length, four inches wide and two inches high. Highly polished the wood seemed to shine with an otherworldly glistening to the grain. Seating himself in the chair, he picked it up letting it rest in his palm. It wasn't all that heavy, and he studied it from all angles trying to figure it out. Sam attempted then to open it and found that he couldn't. “It's a puzzle.” he mused aloud. “That's clever.”

As he stared at it, Sam was trying to ascertain how to open it. Then it clicked in his brain. Where the feet met the body was a small almost invisible seam unless you were looking at it. Lifting it out, he then slid the top off with his thumb. There was a tiny handle which Sam pinched with his fingers and pulled it free. Resting in the red velvet interior lay a small slice of golden gelatin, which shimmered beneath the light on his desktop. When he realized what it was, he nearly dropped the box so great was his shock.

With shaking hands Sam picked up the scroll and untied the ribbon. Unrolling it, he started to read:

When you are ready Samuel Winchester. You have the choice to stay with your brother. You would not ask for anything for yourself, but it was a debt that I have now repaid. For saving of a life. For the life of Zirena, this is your reward. Sam, you risked yourself for one of mine and I will never forget it. Call for me and I will come. - Athena

“Ambrosia.” Sam whispered in awe.

 

~*~

The End

**Author's Note:**

> As always Comments are greatly appreciated, even if its to say: this sucks! Of course I don't want to get those types of reviews . . . but all feedback is welcomed!


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